


Inexorable Flow

by chayron



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 189,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chayron/pseuds/chayron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is sort of the sequel of both “Working out the Paradox” and “Watch out for the Green Eyes”. The action takes place ten years after the events in “WoftGE” and sixteen years after Yuuri and Wolfram got together. Yuuri and Wolfram have been married for fourteen years. In this, last, story we address Faraya’s escape, Wolfram telling the truth to Yuuri about what happened to him on Ekara, Kyota and Amae’s relationship and some other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
Warnings: Yaoi (male x male), Yuuri x Wolfram. Some other pairings. Angst. Adult topics.  
Summary: This is sort of the sequel of both “Working out the Paradox” and “Watch out for the Green Eyes”. The action takes place ten years after the events in “WoftGE” and sixteen years after Yuuri and Wolfram got together. Yuuri and Wolfram have been married for fourteen years.  
Concerning the plot I can say that first chapters are quite light, later things will get a little tighter. The themes that I’m going to discuss and write about are rather disturbing and I wasn’t very sure if I’ll be able to deal with them. Well, it’s for you to decide.   
I don’t want to spoil your reading, so I won’t say anything about the plot but if you are one of my constant readers, you know that there are such things left to deal with, like Faraya’s escape, Wolfram telling the truth to Yuuri about what happened to him on Ekara, Kyota and Amae’s relationship and some other things. All of that will be addressed here, in the third part of the trilogy.

A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 32. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. I must warn you that I tend to ignore the anime and more than half things that will follow now are completely fictional and have nothing to do with it. For instance, I don’t like how they count Wolfram’s age. For being that old how they say, he acts like an idiot in the anime (I haven’t read the manga and it doesn’t interest me). And I also don’t believe that Mazoku develop so slowly that only when they are 70, they finally reach mental capabilities of an average fifteen-year-old Human. If it has something to do with faster season exchange in Shin Makoku…whatever – we still need to bring that age close to that of a Human to be able to compare their growth in all aspects. There are differences between Mazoku and Humans, and, if you are interested, you can read about them in “WotP” chapter 14.  
Time gaps are another thing that I interpret my way. Time goes faster in Shin Makoku than on Earth and it just flies on Ekara. But separately, that time doesn’t disappear anywhere. On every planet it has the same pace. You can only see the difference if you compare the worlds or some character travels from one world to another.

A/N 2: I hate Greta; she doesn’t exist in my fics, and Yuuri has never adopted her.

A/N 3: Don’t get confused by that “power swapping”. It’s something from the first story and is completely fictional. The explanation is as follows: an average Mazoku has the ability to control one of the four elements. I’ll give an example while using Yuuri and Wolfram. Yuuri is able to control all four elements (forget the anime, I said). While exchanging bodily liquids, Mazoku are able to swap the power. Let’s take Wolfram – so he would be able to use all other three elements that Yuuri is able to use. But, the elements still obey the person who has the contract with them. So if Yuuri decided not to allow Wolfram to use his…let’s say water element, the element wouldn’t listen to Wolfram, only to Yuuri. Now in case they both have the same power (in this case fire element) – Yuuri wouldn’t be able to use the shared power that is already in Wolfram’s body – he would simply supply Wolfram with more power and, as Wolfram himself has contract with that element, Yuuri can’t forbid him from using that power. All the exchanged power is exhaustible and one needs to recharge it constantly.  
Well, if this explanation isn’t enough – you can still ask me, but I simply recommend reading three last chapters of “WotP” where everything should be explained much clearer.

A/N 4: There are four worlds/dimensions. Mearan (where Shin Makoku is), Ekara (Faraya’s native planet), Earth and Aliran. Mearan is represented by Yuuri Shibuya and is considered the planet of water element. Ekara used to be represented by Faraya who went into hiding and it is the planet of fire. Earth is represented by Shori Shibuya and is the planet of air. Aliran is the planet of earth, its ruler is unknown.

A/N 5: My point of reference is Earth. For instance, if I say that Yuuri and Wolfram have been married for fourteen years, it means I count the years referring to Earth.

A/N 6: Asami Rivu is Yuuri’s former classmate. They are good friends, Asami knowing all about Shin Makoku and Yuuri’s position there. Yuuri likes him because of his straightforwardness, insight and calm, melancholic character. Asami is quite sensitive and good with emotions and at reading people. He’s of average height with short dark hair, wears glasses. Asami had also been the one to travel to Ekara with Wolfram and Kyota. Just that you would know and wouldn’t need to ask me: Asami is absolutely heterosexual.

A/N 7: Kyota Docharo is Wolfram’s childhood friend who has been in love with Wolfram for a long time, he having a fiery character and tolerating Yuuri only because it was Wolfram’s choice to marry him. Later Kyota fell in love with another man (Amae Sederu) but their relationship had ended abruptly, leaving Kyota hurt and enraged.   
Kyota’s picture can be found here: http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/view/263567/  
Kyota is several years older than Wolfram and is a fire wielder just as his friend, even though Kyota isn’t very good with his sword. Kyota grew up together with Wolfram, his mother, Katarina, being Cecilie’s good friend and after her husband/Kyota’s father’s death staying in Blood Pledge Castle for a long time. Kyota has a younger stepbrother, Arisu, who is the child of Katarina’s second husband, Edohi. Arisu is just an episodical character.  
Currently Katarina is the Duchess of Delam which is on good terms with Shin Makoku and Kyota is the General of the Army. His stepfather doesn’t interfere in Delam’s politics as he himself has inherited a county after his father’s death.  
You can always ask in case I forgot to include something ^_~

A/N 8: Started – October, 2007

 

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 1

“It’s open!”

Asami pushed the door open to enter a short corridor, decorated with bluish wallpaper. Once he crossed it, he stepped into a kitchen and saw Yuuri sitting at a table with the morning’s newspaper in his hands. There was a plate with sandwiches on the table and a hot mug of tea steaming next to it.

“Morning,” Asami greeted.

“Hey,” Yuuri nodded without raising his head from the newspaper. “Want some tea, coffee?”

Taking his seat opposite his longtime friend, Asami shook his head. “Nah, I just ate.”

While Yuuri continued reading his newspaper, Asami decided that a mug of tea wouldn’t hurt. He got up, turned the heat on under the kettle then started looking around in the spacious kitchen. 

Yuuri bought this house two years ago, when he finally had enough of his mother butting into his and Wolfram’s relationship every time they came to stay on Earth. As Yuuri was never known for flinging money around needlessly, the house was of common size. It had a kitchen, a bathroom and a big living-room on the ground floor. On the first floor there were two rooms, one of which usually was used as a study.

“Where do you keep the tea?”

Yuuri raised his head. His brows furrowed. “Try that cupboard on your right.” He snickered while reaching for a sandwich. “Yesterday Wolfram decided to clean up, so everything is arranged according to his unique sense of order. I can’t find a thing after he does that.”

“Here. Found it,” Asami nodded, retracting his hand with a pack of tea from the cupboard. “And where is he actually?”

“He went for a ride. He does that a lot recently; must be worried about something,” Yuuri said while munching on his sandwich. He turned to look out the window. 

“Oh. Anything serious?”

Yuuri shrugged. “I’m not sure. But with Wolfram it’s always like this – he’ll tell when he’s ready.” He dismissed the topic with a light wave of his hand. “Say, what will we do if it starts raining?”

Following his gaze, Asami frowned. Really, the murky weather didn’t promise anything good. “Well, I suppose the tournament will be moved into a closed building nearby.” He took the whistling kettle off the cook-top and poured some water over his tea pack. “I was surprised when Wolfram agreed to go watch baseball…”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “He’s probably worried that we would get drunk again and start running after skirts.” 

“Well, he has a point…” Asami muttered while bringing his tea over to Yuuri’s table. “I don’t know what came over me the last time…”

Yuuri looked at him sideways. “Yeah… And not only the last time…” he drawled while Asami was taking his place back at the table. When Asami got drunk, nobody could tell that the man was over thirty. During all the years Asami hadn’t changed that much in the inside, but his body had gotten bigger and firmer and was that of a grown-up man. Meanwhile Yuuri still looked as if he were only a bit over twenty. “Well, those chicks were really hot,” Yuuri shrugged.

Asami rubbed his forehead. He sighed. “You are lucky that he isn’t that jealous anymore…”

Yuuri snorted. “Sure. Think what you want. He didn't talk to me for a week after that. Needless to say, I could only dream about sex.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri nodded. “So if you have any more cunning plans on how to get drunk and get some chicks, keep them to yourself,” Yuuri said, while taking the newspaper back into his hands.

With his head Asami motioned at the newspaper. “What are you so interested about in there anyway?”

“My brother just bought another hospital. He started reorganizing it and there is some commotion now,” Yuuri explained. “Well, nothing he can’t deal with anyway.”

“Hmmm…” Asami drawled while helping himself to one of the sandwiches. “Expanding his network further? He really is good at doing business…”

“You are not that bad yourself,” Yuuri remarked.

Asami chuckled. “You can’t compare my small software shop to his business.”

Yuuri shrugged. He continued reading his newspaper, then raised his head as a humming sound was heard from the street. “Here, he’s coming back already. He’ll change his clothes, have a snack, and we’ll go.”

Asami turned to the window and observed the street. “Hmm?” he wondered, as all he could see was a lone motorcyclist approaching the house. He cast his eyes admiringly over the red and black Yamaha bike. “A real beauty,” he sighed. “A year or so ago I thought about getting myself one of those, but then I looked at the death rate statistics and decided on a posh car…” He turned to look at his blue Honda which was parked in front of the house.

“Yeah, I’d have preferred a car to bike…” Yuuri muttered, not lifting his eyes from the newspaper.

“Hey, it seems he’s coming here…” Asami watched the motorcyclist turn toward the gate.

The motorbike swept in smoothly through the gate and stopped near the garage. The driver climbed off, then kicked down the stand. The motorcyclist took his gloves off then started fumbling with his helmet. Agape, Asami stared at the shock of blond hair that appeared from under the helmet.

Ruffling through his hair to get it in order, Wolfram started walking toward the door. He took his boots off, then, carrying the helmet under his arm, appeared in the kitchen shortly. 

“Hey,” he nodded at Asami. 

Asami nodded back and continued to stare at the blond who, putting down the helmet, started unzipping his red and black leather jacket. Wolfram still looked as if he were no more than eighteen, and his looks hadn't changed a bit during the time Asami had known Wolfram. With a twinge of jealousy Asami realized that Wolfram still could stop traffic in any street he walked.

“How much time do we have left?” Wolfram asked Yuuri. “I still want to take a shower.”

Yuuri nodded. “We still have about an hour. Do something with your hair – it’s a mess.”

“I thought you were afraid of driving…” Asami muttered.

Ruffling through his hair, Wolfram looked at him, surprised. “Huh? I’ve been driving for four years now.” 

“Yeah, and I have already paid about twenty fines for his speeding…” Yuuri grunted out. “But at least he doesn’t run from the police anymore…”

Wide-eyed, Asami turned back to Wolfram who had already gone back down the corridor.

“He used to get sick on everything that moves…”

Yuuri sighed. “It doesn’t bother him a bit if he is the one in control of the moving thing. Exactly the same as with a horse. It seems it is more a mental problem than… He still gets sick if it’s somebody else driving.”

“How the hell did he decide he wanted a motorcycle? And what was that about the police?”

“It was my brother’s fault. It was his birthday and he was drunk off his ass and he gave Wolfram his motorbike to try. And despite that on his first try Wolfram crashed into a tree, and I had to buy Shori a new bike, it got him interested. Damn Shori,” Yuuri cursed.

“And the police?” Asami asked as it seemed that Yuuri wanted to go back to reading the paper.

“Well, they wanted to stop him and he thought they were some assholes chasing him,” Yuuri shrugged. “In the end they caught him, but he fought with them, taking down a few... Jeez, it was such a mess. He didn’t have a license yet and he was charged with speeding and assaulting police officers and got locked up in a cell until I paid the bail. There was a trial, but he behaved and apologized, so in the end I only paid a huge fine and that was it.”

Asami stared at Yuuri for awhile. “He does have a license now, doesn’t he…?” he asked then.

“Yes, just got it a year ago.” Yuuri waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Now his energy is directed towards the road and his bike. And he has less of it left over for yelling and being aggressive. I really like that.”

“Hmm…” Asami wondered. “Like a therapy?” Wolfram was more aggressive and snappish than most people, which was actually due to a higher testosterone level in his system and it was clear that he couldn’t help it. “Aren’t you afraid he might break his neck off?”

Yuuri shrugged. “It’s not that easy to kill a full-blooded Mazoku, especially when he can control all four elements. His reactions are really amazing and if anything happens, he will probably summon my wind element to help him.”

Asami sipped his tea for some time, then helped himself to another sandwich from the plate. Interested, he observed it. The piece of salami was twice as big as the slice of bread and the symbolic snippet of cucumber on top of it was comical. But, despite the appearance, it tasted quite well.

Asami was licking the crumbs off his fingers when Wolfram reappeared in the kitchen. With only a towel wrapped around his hips, tucked in at the waist and his hair dripping water, he strolled to Yuuri.

“Wolfram, do you know that your hair is on fire?” Asami asked while helping himself to a third sandwich. He pointed at Wolfram’s hair, which now was flaming. 

“He is saving on electricity,” Yuuri frowned. He raised his eyes from the newspaper to look at Wolfram who had seated himself next to him. “How many times do I have to tell you to use a hairdryer?”

“It damages my hair.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and went back to reading. “Sure, scorching fire is much better…” he mumbled under his breath.

“Did you eat any of the sandwiches or was it Asami who ate them all?”

Asami looked at the sandwich in his hand. “Oh. And I was wondering why they are so weird… Yuuri, you made him make breakfast for you? Wow, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t make him. He’s a good husband by nature,” Yuuri mumbled. “But sandwiches and tea probably are the only things he is able to make…”

“Careful,” Wolfram warned, “or soon you won’t even get that.” He took Yuuri’s mug to finish drinking the tea leftovers. “I really don’t want to go to that stupid baseball…” he complained after a few seconds. Scowling, he put the mug back onto the table.

“I installed a few games into my laptop. You can take it with you,” Yuuri said. “But they are quite old. Or you can check out some bikes on the Internet.”

“That’s great,” Wolfram grinned at him. Peeling the paper out of Yuuri’s hand, he leaned over to give his husband a chaste kiss. “Hmm…you did eat some,” he said then.

Yuuri sighed when the blond’s towel parted. Taking the newspaper back, he pushed Wolfram away from him. He smacked Wolfram on his toweled behind. “Go dress or the only place where we’ll go today will be the bed.”

Asami’s eyes followed Wolfram’s bare back into the corridor, then snapped his eyes down to his sandwich in a short lived panic as Wolfram flicked the towel off his waist and to the ground.

“He has a nice ass.”

Yuuri’s brow arched at the comment and he raised his eyes from the paper. “Which is all mine, I dare remind you.”

Asami chortled into his tea. “Sure thing.” Sighing, he bit into his sandwich. Despite it being only a jest, with the years, as Yuuri and Wolfram’s relationship progressed, Yuuri was valuing it more and taking it more seriously. Wolfram was someone who had his absolute trust. But despite Yuuri trusting Wolfram, Yuuri had become very protective about their relationship. It was the same with Wolfram. The difference was only in expression. While Yuuri usually kept things all silent on the surface, in most cases Wolfram’s discontentment, anger or jealousy was tossed in everyone's face like a wet rag.

Yuuri and Wolfram had been married for fourteen years. Yuuri was the first to marry from their classmates, and as far as Asami was able to tell while watching from the sidelines - it was probably the most successful union. The two loved each other and had adapted perfectly to each other’s characters and lifestyle. Sometimes they argued and it was never nice, for it was always loud and sometimes even came to throwing punches. But somehow in the end they always managed to find a compromise.

Watching the two was personally depressing and made Asami jealous. He was thirty-two years old and didn’t even have a girlfriend. Lisa had been the woman that he thought was the one, but then her ex-boyfriend appeared and all the plans about the wedding went down the drain. He had been depressed after that and had been drinking for a week. If not for Yuuri finally finding him and dragging his ass out of that bar, he might have ended up badly.

“We gotta find you a girlfriend or you’ll drive me crazy. We should go out after the game. Trust me – Wolfram attracts women faster than a close-out does.”

Startled, Asami looked at Yuuri, but the man was still immersed in his newspaper. “Won’t you be jealous?” he asked finally.

Yuuri shrugged at that, chuckling lightly. “He wouldn’t know what to do with a woman even if she lay naked on his bed.”

“Yeah, you should be more worried about pretty guys,” Asami laughed.

Yuuri shrugged again. “True. But he’s more attracted to those with hard features and a bigger build than his.”

Asami rolled his eyes. As if he had ever been interested in Wolfram’s taste… He couldn’t care less. He heard Wolfram jogging downstairs and, carrying a laptop under his arm, soon the blond appeared in the doorway. Wolfram’s hair was still disheveled but with black jeans, a red sleeveless shirt and white sneakers it made an irresistible combination. Again, he was struck by the way Wolfram appeared to be so young.

“You look nice,” Yuuri said after catching a glimpse of his husband over his newspaper. “Don’t forget a jacket as it might start raining.”

“Hmmm…” Wolfram drawled.

“No. I forbid you to meddle with the weather,” Yuuri said. “Shori would skin me alive.”

“Fine,” Wolfram shrugged.

Asami chuckled. He was always amazed when the two could read each other so well. He stood up. “Well, shall we go?”

Yuuri folded his newspaper then tossed it onto the table and stood up. The three of them walked down the corridor. Wolfram had already gone outside before Yuuri and Asami finished putting their shoes on. Once outside, Yuuri’s arm wrapped around the blond’s waist to tug him toward Asami’s blue car.

“Oh. He’s the one driving?” Wolfram asked.

Asami only sighed. Damn, now he wouldn’t be able to drink much. Well, maybe later he could talk Yuuri into driving.

“Do you intend to fly with this?” Wolfram snickered, brushing his hand over the large rear wing. He chuckled when Asami gave him the finger.

“Get into the car, you two,” Asami motioned for them to get in before opening his door.

“Take it slow and smooth or he’ll be sick all over your interior,” Yuuri warned.

“Jesus, do you really have it that bad, Wolfram?”

“Well, I don’t really mind when Yuuri is driving, but otherwise – yeah, all the nausea kicks in as soon as a car starts moving,” Wolfram confirmed, closing the door. He seated himself comfortably next to Yuuri, close enough so that their shoulders touched. Quite a while ago he noticed that Yuuri’s calm and tranquil presence helped reduce his sickness. 

“It does seem like a mental problem…” Asami muttered, musing.

Wolfram’s face changed color a few times, but to Asami’s immense relief they reached the stadium without much ado. He chose the farthest parking-lot, but even then, only after circling around it a few times, did he finally find an empty space to park his car. 

There were already lots of people streaming in from the parking-lot and heading in the same direction as they were. About twenty minutes later, together with the rest, they were spilled into the huge stadium. They found their places and sat down to watch the players warming up for the game.

“Ah, it’s been a long time we’ve been to a game,” Asami sighed contently after sitting down next to Yuuri. He cast a look around at the huge clamoring mass of people in the stadium. 

Yuuri nodded in agreement. The two of them were too busy now to allow themselves such a luxury. Asami had a business to manage and supervise, and he was responsible for an entire nation and its affairs. Not to mention he was also responsible for Ekara. They were only there now because he had taken a break to cool his head, spend some quality time with his husband and relax. As the years passed, the time he spent on Earth was becoming shorter and shorter. If added all together, during the previous year he had only spent a week here. And even then he only came to visit his parents.

He missed Earth. Mearan and Earth were very different in their cultures. His relationships on Earth had been severed by the merciless time shortage and it hurt to think that the only remaining ties were his family and Asami. 

He still kept his relationship with his brother tight. Shori was the one who he could trust to support him and supply him with needed information about Earth’s most important affairs. His parents were still the same, living in their house in the same calm district. His father didn’t look any different than he remembered from his childhood. He was still the same quiet man with soft facial expressions and smiling eyes. His mother had aged, though. She was still as energetic and vivid as usual, but she was fifty-five already and it was already looking as if she was older than her husband. With dread, Yuuri found himself thinking that there would be a time when people would think his father her son.

“Is everything alright?”

Yuuri turned his head to Wolfram, who was giving him a questioning look. He gave a short reassuring smile to his husband and cast a look over the stadium. The game should start shortly. He and Asami had been cheering for Ransui’s team for ages it seemed; but he hardly knew the newly assembled players. This time Ransui city was playing against the neighboring Chansa city’s team.

When the game started, Wolfram followed the action for about ten minutes then started to get bored. Yuuri and Asami were following the game intently, so he got Yuuri’s laptop out of the bag. He turned it on and chose one of games that were on the desktop. The game started, but a few jumps and kicks later, the view went blank. Wolfram’s lips pursed at the black screen. He raised his head.

“Yuuri… You haven’t forgotten to recharge it, have you…?” Wolfram drawled while staring at Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri turned to look at him. “Shit.” He smiled sheepishly when his husband let out a long sigh.

For twenty minutes Wolfram sat quietly, inspecting his nails or the people around. He tried hard, very hard to keep silent, but twenty minutes was his limit, so he said he was going for a walk and to buy some snacks. 

After getting out of the bleachers and the unceasing noise, he decided that he had no wish to go back to that overwhelming riot. In case one of them got separated, they had arranged to meet in the parking lot, so he was calm about it.

They had come here for a vacation. As time in Shin Makoku sped much faster, he had been surprised when Yuuri chose Earth. When he had asked why Earth and not Mearan, Yuuri explained that this was the only place where Gunter wasn’t able to find him. Yuuri was joking, of course, but Wolfram was a little worried about them spending an entire week on Earth while leaving Shin Makoku without its head for more than a month. The political situation had been stable for years, but it only took showing a tiny weakness and the situation might change during a few hours.

Wolfram bought some ice-cream and found a calm place to sit. The bench was situated in the nearby walkway which was lined by trees. Ignoring staring faces and a few blushing and giggling girls, he enjoyed it for about ten minutes. In Shin Makoku there was rarely anyone who hadn’t seen him, but on Earth or Ekara it always turned out like this - people stared at him.

Waiting for the game to end, he wandered around the streets then turned back. Walking slowly, he came back to the parking lot and Asami's car. Leaning on the car, he waited for about ten minutes, then people started streaming into the parking lot. After another ten minutes, Yuuri and Asami showed up. According to how their faces gleamed, it was obvious that Ransui won. Wolfram couldn’t help chuckling when Yuuri, grinning from ear to ear, stuck both his thumbs up. His husband could be so cute sometimes… Wolfram was sure to savor the sight.

After the two enthusiasts, ignoring the fact that Wolfram wasn’t interested in baseball at all, had related to him all the best parts of the game, the three of them decided on going somewhere to eat.

XXXXX

The fancy bar-restaurant was filled with people. It seemed that people didn’t want to disperse right after the game and had the same idea to prolong the day. They had a hard time finding a table and only after a ten-minute wait, took the places of a group who left.

Already while they were waiting at the door, Asami was conscious of people blatantly staring at Wolfram. Wolfram’s bright blond head was seen from afar. He was also aware of a few females’ attempts at flirting, which Wolfram palpably ignored. Maybe Wolfram was really his lucky ticket.

“Yuuri, maybe you’ll drive back?” Asami tried while he was taking the place next to Yuuri, with Wolfram seating himself opposite them.

Yuuri’s brow rose. “I drove back the previous time. It’s your turn now.”

Asami sighed and took the menu to browse through it. After finding and choosing what he wished, he raised his head and found himself surprised to see Wolfram also studying the menu. He remembered Yuuri telling him that Wolfram learned to read, but he still wasn’t ready to see the blond leafing through the menu so easily.

“Yuuri, I don’t understand the names of the dishes. The drinks are more or less fine but…” Wolfram complained suddenly. “What the heck is the third number?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri skimmed back a few pages. “Oh, it’s roast duck with orange sauce.”

“Who can eat meat with that disgusting fruit?” Wolfram muttered. “I want the duck but without that sauce.”

“Then it’s the fifth number for you,” Yuuri said. “With soy sauce.”

“Soy…?” Wolfram drawled, unsure. “Isn’t that the thing that caused me to break out in a rash the last time?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Yuuri thought for a moment. “I’ll just ask for salad with the duck, then. Is it okay?”

Wolfram nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Despite the bar restaurant being very busy, the waitress came right away as soon as she saw Wolfram lowering the menu back to the table. She smiled down at him brightly.

“Good day. Are you ready to order?”

Wolfram pointed at Yuuri. “My husband will order for me. Put it on one tab for us. Thanks.”

A little frayed, the waitress turned her head to Yuuri. The man nodded but otherwise didn’t seem to react at the comment at all.

“Mmm… What was that…?” Yuuri’s eyes squinted while he was trying to remember. “Oh, roast duck, but could you, please, bring it without any sauce, only with some salad? Make it…” Yuuri skimmed over his menu again, “…number 4, Oriental Salad. Thanks. And Salmon Loaf for me and two beers. And you?” he turned to Asami.

“Beef ribs and a bottle of whiskey for me. My treat,” Asami winked at Yuuri.

“You’ll have to order something else. Wolfram doesn’t like whiskey or any of strong drinks for that matter,” Yuuri said. “Make it some girly drink, like cider or some cocktail.”

Asami and the waiter started as there was a smack. Wolfram lowered the menu off Yuuri’s face. “Yuuri…”

Yuuri rubbed his face. “Whatever.” He grabbed the menu from Wolfram’s hand and held it out for the waitress to keep it out of his husband’s reach.

Their drinks arrived shortly. Curiously, Asami watched Wolfram sipping his cider through a straw. His and Yuuri’s eyes met and Yuuri hid his smile behind his goblet filled with beer. “He likes that,” Yuuri said.

Asami chuckled. To tell the truth, it even seemed to quite fit Wolfram. The blond poked the ice in his glass with the straw as if bored, then sighed heavily.

“What is it?” Yuuri asked.

Wolfram shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. I think I have got a little tired from that mass of people…”

Yuuri nodded. It was a well-known truth that Wolfram did not like gatherings. He was always alert and ready to act, so being surrounded by that many people drove his senses crazy. “I should have left you at home after all,” Yuuri said.

His husband shrugged. “Well, I’m tired, but it’s a different kind of tiredness than at home. The walk through the city was quite refreshing.”

“Mmm? Did you see anything interesting?” Asami asked. “Anything you’d want Yuuri to buy for you?” he added, grinning.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Don’t put idiotic thoughts into his head.”

Asami chuckled. “Aww…” He knew that Yuuri and Wolfram’s relationship was way above that but it was fun to tease them both. On the other hand, he knew perfectly that Yuuri would buy anything Wolfram wished anyway. Besides being his husband’s and king’s irreplaceable support and assistant in his daily life, Wolfram was Yuuri’s greatest weakness. Yuuri liked spoiling him, but was rarely successful as his husband reacted quite sensitively to any sign of being patronized. 

Their meal arrived half an hour later, after Yuuri and Wolfram had already had a repeat on their orders of alcohol. Yuuri already seemed to be overly happy, and Wolfram was talking non-stop about some man named Leahir, who apparently was Kyota’s recent lover. Asami was already regretting having taken his car.

Yuuri grinned contently when, after having tasted his duck, Wolfram said that it was perfect. The two of them clinked their glasses and drank again to toast the duck. Feeling like an outsider, Asami sighed, he hated it when they did that; disappeared into their own world. The only thing he was happy about was that the two didn’t have any children and it didn’t loom over them.

Asami gave Wolfram a questioning look when the blond lowered his fork and seemed to glare somewhere behind his back. “What is it?”

“They have been staring at me for ten minutes straight!” Wolfram muttered. “My skin will start peeling soon!”

Yuuri swallowed the beer he had in his mouth. “Only ten minutes?” He grinned at Wolfram’s offended glare and offered another toast to which he was the only one to drink.

“Where?” Asami asked, looking around.

Yuuri cast a look to where three quite attractive women sat a bit farther from Wolfram. “Why don’t you invite them to our table, Wolfram?”

Wolfram looked at his husband as if he had grown two heads. “What the hell?!” Then Wolfram blinked at the way Yuuri’s eyes crossed, trying to point at Asami. He understood the whole idea at once. “Oh, god, why me?” he groaned. He rubbed his forehead and cast a glance at Asami who was looking at the women longingly. “Alright. Just for Asami. But no touching allowed!”

“Fine, fine,” Yuuri waved that off dismissively. “Just go invite them here.”

“Which one do you like the most, Asami?” Wolfram asked. “I’ll have to seat them somehow, you know,” he explained after Asami only stared at him.

“Oh. The one with a red blouse.”

Wolfram nodded. It took only a few words from him and moments later the women joined them. 

“I’m Surya,” the woman in the red blouse introduced herself as soon as she sat down at Asami’s side “This is Hether and Renata,” she pointed at her friends. 

The women were dressed casually, with jeans and blouses, Hether wearing a light sweater. Surya seemed to be a little over thirty years old. She wore the aforementioned red blouse with her dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. She wasn’t much of a looker but there was something in her brown eyes that made her noticeable. Hether had an oval face, brown hair and was wearing glasses. From her posture one could guess that she was quite shy. She also seemed to be younger than Surya. Renata wore her dark hair loose, her curious eyes sometimes getting covered by it, then she would brush her hair back and pull it behind her ear. Her complexion was a little darker than usual. Her body was just on the verge of being called plump.

The men also introduced themselves and ordered more drinks. It appeared that the women, the same as the entire bar-restaurant current clientele had come here after the game. 

“We, differently than most here, are drinking to contemplate our loss.”

“Ah, you are from Chansa, then?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes,” Renata nodded. “But our support didn't help any…”

Asami shrugged. “They will win the next time. So how do you like our city?”

“The streets seem to be a bit dirty,” Surya said.

Asami’s brow rose at that. “Well, true. We have thirty high-schools and ten colleges, plus a few universities here, so yeah…”

“Ah. True, I have forgotten that,” Surya nodded. “Kids nowadays… Mine are the same – always have to go picking up dirt after them. Brats.”

“Mmm? How old are they?” Asami interested.

“Six and ten. I have been married for eleven years already,” she chuckled, raising her left hand with the wedding ring for him to see. “I managed to talk my husband into letting me have a short, one-day vacation with my friends. But both Hether and Renata are free,” she winked at Asami.

“I like you,” Asami grinned, reaching his hand out for the bottle of wine that had just been brought by the waitress. “What a pity,” he said, while starting to open the bottle.

Wolfram watched Asami talking to Surya, but it was apparent that after Surya admitted that she was married, the man’s interest peeked towards Renata who sat at Yuuri’s side. It didn’t seem that Surya minded, though. Hether was quiet and it was obvious that she thought that Wolfram was too young for her. Wolfram didn’t mind people mistaking his age, but he did mind that Hether seemed to be interested in Yuuri.

Yuuri was bisexual and Wolfram was perfectly aware of the fact. Actually it was a very rare case when Yuuri paid attention to males in that sense, but his eyes lingered on women frequently. Wolfram had realized long ago that it was pointless to try to do anything about it. As long as Yuuri didn’t try anything else except for looking, Wolfram learned to tolerate it. This time Yuuri was flirting. And quite openly. It was a part of the game, and Yuuri winked at Wolfram when he thought nobody was looking, but the blond couldn’t help feeling a little irritated. 

The conversations flowed at the table, everybody talking and praising their teams and comparing the cities, the loss already washed away by the wine and stronger liquors that Asami continued ordering. Wolfram tried to join them, but after his fourth bottle of cider lost interest completely and didn’t even bother pretending he cared or understood. Two hours later, when all of them had gotten quite buzzed, Wolfram somehow found himself conversing with Surya about her children and husband. When he neared his sixth bottle, he decided that kids were the worst thing possible that could happen to one and his depression only increased. 

Watching the growing hill of bottles around Wolfram, Asami realized that Yuuri hadn't warned him that the blond would drink that much to compensate for the low strength. 

“Hey, Yuuri, will he be alright?” Asami wondered.

“Don’t worry,” Yuuri slurred, “there’s a very clear indicator when it becomes too much for him.”

Asami cast Wolfram a look - he was sure that Wolfram had had enough already. He was the only one sober out of six of them, the women were also quite buzzed, laughing and flirting. He was surprised to see the prince immersed in a conversation with Surya. The bits and pieces that floated over the table and reached his ears didn’t seem to have anything to do with Wolfram at all, and yet there the blond was nodding enthusiastically and asking questions. Asami figured that Wolfram might be tactfully diverting Surya’s attention to himself as to leave him more chances with Renata.

“So, what do you think?” Asami asked when the women left for the bathroom, leaving them at the table. Asami sighed when Wolfram gave him a confused look; the blond had no idea what he was talking about. “The women, Wolfram, the women.”

“Oh. I like Surya. Her husband also seems to be…be,” Wolfram hiccupped, then quickly excused himself for his manners, “a nice person. I like her.”

Yuuri raised both thumbs up. “Me too. Oh, which one is Surya?” 

Asami rubbed his forehead. He shouldn’t have driven today after all. “You guys…” he sighed. “So let’s take them home. And I…”

“Home…where?” Yuuri asked him with a twinge of suspicion.

“I think he wants us to distract the other two…” Wolfram said, sipping cider from his glass. “He believes that in the evening the two will stay with us and he could take Renata to his flat to spend the night,” Wolfram drawled, making Asami wonder at how the blond’s mind was able to work at all under such conditions. “Are you sure Renata will go with you? I wouldn’t.”

“Well, we wouldn’t fit into one car anyway,” Yuuri reasoned. “We’ll go by a taxi.” He raised his thumbs again. “Go for it!” he grinned at Asami. “Ah, dammit! I spilled it!” Yuuri cursed as his hand caught his half-empty beer goblet and the contents spilled all over the table and his trousers. He grabbed a handful of napkins from the holster to wipe the table and his trousers.

Asami sighed again. Wolfram blinked at his husband while his fuzzy mind tried to understand what they would do with those women after taking them home. He had actually been planning to have some fun with Yuuri. Women hadn’t been included.

Surprised, Asami’s eyes followed the blond who stood up suddenly. Wolfram looked startled at the way his body didn’t listen to him. For a few seconds he rocked backwards and forwards then turned to Yuuri’s seat opposite him. Yuuri was still pushed away from the table in his chair and trying to wipe his pants with a small table-napkin, was startled as Wolfram dropped to his knees, between Yuuri's legs. He stared at Yuuri’s crotch for a few moments then raised his head.

Yuuri blinked. “Huh?”

“I wanna suck you off.” 

Asami choked on his saliva.

“See? This is what indicates that he has had enough to drink,” Yuuri explained to Asami.

“I’m glad you know that but…” Asami muttered. He looked around but it seemed people around them were of similar condition and nobody paid attention to them.

“Yuuri…?” Wolfram gave a mischievous grin up at his husband.

Yuuri stared down at Wolfram. “Okay…” he said, swallowing loudly.

Asami stared at him. “Whaaa…?” To his horror, Wolfram started fumbling with Yuuri’s belt. “Oh no, you don’t!” He grabbed Wolfram by his hair. Making the wincing blond rise to his feet, he dragged him back to his seat. “Sit here!”

Yuuri pushed his chair back to the table. “It would have been interesting,” he mumbled, regret clear in his voice.

“No more drinking for you two!”

Asami felt that he was being intently watched and turned to Wolfram. After scrutinizing the blond’s drunken facial expression, he realized that Wolfram didn’t seem to be angry with him for trying to put a bridle on his sexual activities.

“Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” He turned to Yuuri as Wolfram only blinked at him with his hooded emeralds. “What’s wrong with him?”

Yuuri waved that off dismissively. “Don’t worry, he always gets horny when drunk.”

Asami’s head snapped back to Wolfram. Wolfram smiled at him. “Check, please!” Asami screamed for the waitress at the look on blond’s dreamy face.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
>  Warnings: Yaoi (male x male), Yuuri x Wolfram. Some other pairings. Angst. Adult topics.  
>  A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 32. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 2

It was about seven o’clock in the evening. The sun was still quite bright and its rays slid smoothly over the sleek hood of the taxi that had just turned into Oak Street. Passing dozens of duplicate houses that lined both sides of the street, it finally stopped in front of one of them. The doors of the taxi opened and four people stumbled out of it.

“Didn’t you say that it was a modest flat…?” Surya drawled after observing the house behind the gate. “What was that about not having enough space…?” She gave her friend a meaningful look with a raised brow.

Wolfram let it slide without a comment. He was sure that about that time in Hether’s head a dozen alerted cogs started spinning, turning and jumping – Yuuri was a man who could provide for her.

“And where’re Renata with Asami?” Surya asked.

“Ah-hah,” Yuuri laughed sheepishly while giving the taxi driver a few notes. “Sorry about that, but it seemed to me that Asami and Renata hit it off quite nicely,” he said. “Asami begged us to arrange some quality time for him with his new friend,” he gave a guilty smile. “No need to worry – Asami is a real gentleman,” Yuuri added. He patted the hood of the car and, slowly, it set in motion. “I’m sure she’ll call soon to tell you they are going the opposite way.”

The two women exchanged a short look then, smiling, Surya shrugged her shoulders and went towards Wolfram who meanwhile had pushed the gate open. Hether followed her, and Yuuri was left to think about how he was going to have Asami repay him for all this trouble.

After fumbling with his keys for much longer than usual, Wolfram realized that the alcohol he had consumed earlier hadn’t dissipated yet. Finally, he opened the door and let the guests in. Heading down the corridor he led the women into the living-room.

“It’s so neat inside! One would never think it’s two guys living here alone,” Surya commented after they had sat down on the couch.

“My cousin is quite good at that,” Yuuri said, while giving a wink at Wolfram, who gave him the finger. “But we have a housecleaner who comes once a week,” Yuuri added, already on his way to the kitchen to get some drinks. He motioned for Wolfram to get the glasses from the sideboard which was standing against the wall.

“So... you are Yuuri’s cousin from his mother side, right?” Surya asked Wolfram after Yuuri had gone.

“Yeah, my mother’s sister’s, who married that Swiss guy, son,” Yuuri’s voice came from the kitchen.

“Still… I’d have never thought it possible to have such different looks…” Surya drawled, wondering.

“It’s so nice that you let Wolfram stay here while he is studying…” Hether said, watching Wolfram retrieving glasses out of the sideboard.

Her words were followed by the sound of something crashing in the kitchen. A few minutes later, Yuuri, now composed, appeared in the doorway to meet the blond’s amused stare. He could see that his husband was happy to get at least this small revenge on him.

The blond finished arranging the glasses and motioned for him to start pouring while seating himself on the sofa arm. “Hey, old man, don’t just stand in the doorway – pour some in,” Wolfram flashed his wide grin at Yuuri. 

Yuuri frowned. Wolfram could be so spiteful sometimes. He walked over to the table and leaned down to start filling glasses. “There are some sweets and sandwiches in the kitchen; bring some.”

Wolfram rose from the sofa and in a few moments was back with the aforementioned goods in his hands. Yuuri went to meddle with his sound system and soon soft music filled the room. The four of them sat down around the table and raised their glasses.

“To this evening, then,” Yuuri saluted.

“Yes, to new friends.”

The wine tasted good. Wolfram rarely found alcohol that would suit his taste and those mostly were not strong drinks. He didn’t like getting drunk either. When he did, his body would feel heavy and feverish, and he considered himself being poisoned. Why do that, then? There were extreme cases when he would get drunk, however. This evening, for instance.

Yuuri had planed this holiday for both of them, and Wolfram was grateful to his husband for it, but his mind was far from relaxing. He had thought that it would be good to spend some time socializing with new people and relaxing. The problem was however, that it was not that relaxing at all. There were far too many problems pressing down on him. The constant buzz of fear kept him on edge. He was good at pretending, though. Even if it was his own husband to whom he was lying.

This evening was just a game for Yuuri, just for teasing each other to stoke their passions. The real mess was going to start after they got back to Shin Makoku. Yuuri was going to kill him after he realized what had been happening while the two of them had been absent. There was no way their relationship would survive that unscathed.

Yuuri was drunk and took the liberty to flirt with Hether who was responding way too well. Wolfram turned to the bored woman at his side. Surya was an interesting person after all. Besides, he was drunk enough to be able to get away with anything he did now. Even his guilt could not stop him from turning the tables.

Despite being deeply immersed in his conversation, Yuuri found himself falling silent when his eyes touched other two people in the room. Surya and Wolfram had moved from the table to the far end of the couch. His husband had nestled into the corner while Surya was almost overlying him. Yuuri's sudden bout of jealousy was squashed down when he considered the logical explanation of why Wolfram was behaving this way - the blond was a vengeful creature.

But ten minutes later it was clear that just knowing what Wolfram was doing didn’t help much. Forget that, even knowing that his husband would never touch a woman, did nothing to alleviate his increasing jealousy. Despite Surya considering Wolfram a university- or even a high-school student, it was obvious that it was not going to keep her from hanging all over the blond. Wolfram’s wit and exceptional attractiveness were working like a magnet. If he wished, Wolfram could probably have anyone he wanted. 

That thought was particularly irritating.

Annoyed, Yuuri shot his husband a dirty look and took a big gulp out of his glass. It seemed to only work in making the blond become more seductive. It was just amazing how Wolfram could mess up an enjoyable evening!

Half an hour later, Surya finally looked at her watch and hinted that she and Hether would have to get up quite early tomorrow to meet Renata and to get back to Chansa. It was fine with Yuuri and he got immediately involved in distributing the rooms and running around looking for linen. Wolfram, meanwhile, took charge of the bathroom, toothbrushes and towels. It was decided that the women would take the wide sofa in the living-room. So as not to look suspicious, Wolfram took the bedroom upstairs and Yuuri got the couch in the study. As Asami sometimes spent a night or two with them (it was not that easy to get home after drinking that much), they always had some spare toiletries ready.

It was about twelve o’clock when they finally went to sleep. Exactly half an hour later, the door to the bedroom creaked open. Wolfram was wearing his pajamas but still sitting on the floor next to the bed while listening to the soft music from the bedroom sound system. That had become a habit of his. Amused, the blond turned to look at his husband. 

Wolfram had been waiting for him, of course. The blond knew perfectly well that after the display in the living-room he would come. He was going to scold Wolfram or at least glare at him, but instead of that, somehow he found himself moving forward, grabbing the blond, lifting him up and toppling them both into the bed. Their mouths meshed hungrily, and Yuuri could swear that his husband was grinning against his lips. Anger and lust at the though sparked him up even more. His pent up frustration during the entire evening spilling over, Yuuri could only think about marking Wolfram as his again. The thought was ridiculously annoying, but he couldn’t help feeling that way.

Wolfram gasped when Yuuri’s hand dove into the hair above his nape and grabbed it firmly. Pulling, Yuuri made more room for himself to access his husband’s neck. Closing his eyes, the blond let him nip and graze on the skin there. It was worth it, then, Wolfram thought fleetingly, to tease Yuuri like that. With a grin, he reached out to pull at Yuuri’s head until their mouths met. The kiss was messy and greedy, their mouths hungry and trying to prove something, only neither knew exactly what. With a barely muffled moan, Wolfram tried to lift his hips to press himself closer to Yuuri. Both of them were clothed and there was no place to do that, but rubbing against Yuuri’s hardness made him want to feel much more of it. 

“Off, get them off,” Yuuri groaned, while trying to pull Wolfram’s pajama pants off. He got them down as the blond lifted his hips obediently. In no time Yuuri had his own pants off.

“Ohmm…” Wolfram stifled a groan when Yuuri palmed him.

“You love it, don’t you?” Yuuri demanded, starting to stroke him at a leisure pace.

“Goddamn, yeah,” Wolfram agreed with a breathy sigh.

Letting go of the blond’s shaft, Yuuri slid up Wolfram’s body again. Rubbing against Wolfram, Yuuri swallowed his husband’s groan. The forceful kiss was bruising the blond’s lips. There was something in Yuuri that Wolfram had noticed only recently. Something dark, escaping only in rare moments. It wasn't that it scared him, but he had worried about Yuuri’s stability. Not now, though.

Yuuri wanted to dominate Wolfram’s mouth but Wolfram wasn't surrendering and he suddenly realized that it irked him. He would have liked the challenge, but not tonight when he…he wanted to…to… Unlike him, Wolfram didn’t really have preferences in topping or bottoming. But Wolfram bottomed more frequently partially because of his lesser sex drive. Mostly it was not the blond who initiated sex and once Yuuri took the lead, he did not protest. But there were times when Wolfram would instigate sex and at those times he wouldn’t budge either. Usually, those were times when Wolfram would have too much to drink.

Feeling Wolfram’s fingers digging into his shoulders, Yuuri was sure that this was one of those times. Wolfram was feverish, burning with lust and it was obvious that what he wanted was to fuck him.

Yuuri wasn’t sure how it was with Wolfram, but there were times when he felt an instinctive need to protect and safeguard Wolfram. He hated it when his territory was trespassed, was jealous as hell. All he could think then was to make and mark Wolfram as his again. Those were feelings that he thought would be more fitting if his partner were a woman. And there were times when he could feel the same coming from Wolfram. It irritated him to feel that kind of care and he knew it was the same for Wolfram. It was natural when a couple was of opposite sexes and a man felt and acted that way towards his woman, but now it felt a little wrong and weird and irritating.

Although he knew about it perfectly, he doubted that Wolfram knew where some of the friction between them was coming from. The two of them were males and dominating by nature. It was only natural for their egos and libidos to clash. On the other hand, it was one of the reasons why he was so insanely in love with Wolfram. Yes, he was obsessed with Wolfram and he had realized that not that long ago.

Yuuri raised his head as Wolfram broke the kiss suddenly, turning his head to the side.

“What?” Yuuri panted out.

“I’m…not…” Wolfram’s hand shot to his mouth, and Yuuri didn’t need to be told anything else. With a disappointed sigh he watched the blond run out of the room. 

Yuuri tensed then. He suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone in the house. Grabbing and putting his pajama bottoms back on, he snatched Wolfram’s and ran downstairs after the blond.

Yuuri knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you alright?”

“Not really.”

There was a sound of vomiting, then it calmed down again.

“Can I come in?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Clothes.”

He heard Wolfram having another seizure then the blond’s weak voice wafted from the other side of the door, “What clothes? Oh. Crap. I’m naked.”

Yuuri opened the door to enter the bathroom. The sight that greeted him made him frown. The blond was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall right next to the toilet. He was still half erect. Yuuri closed the door behind him tightly and shut the lock. 

“Why the hell do you drink that much if you can’t handle it?”

Wolfram groaned. “Don’t start preaching to me here.”

“It was really stupid of you,” Yuuri said. He tossed the pajamas to the floor next to Wolfram. 

Wolfram’s red rimmed eyes snapped up to him. “And what fucking else was I supposed to do when you were all over those women?!”

“We agreed about that!”

“Who the fuck agreed to that?!” Wolfram spat at him. 

“You know I hate it when you curse!”

“I hate many things you do, but I'm not fucking bringing them into this! I…” Wolfram groaned, then moved over the toilet again.

Yuuri leaned against the door with a thud. He watched Wolfram’s heaving back. “Don’t…don’t ever go flirting with someone else… I don’t know what I’ll do…”

Still quivering at the seizure, Wolfram wiped at his mouth. “What the hell does that mean?” He snorted derisively. “Aren’t you the one who started it in first place?” He leaned back against the wall. It was cold and he shivered.

“It was just for Asami.”

“Cut it, Yuuri. You were all over her even here.”

“It wasn’t anything like that! Unlike you, I enjoy socializing with people!”

“Ooh? So that's what you call it on Earth? Socializing? I’m so sorry for being so asocial, you dick!”

“Wolfram, cut it out!”

Wolfram glared at him. “Sometimes I so fucking hate you… I suppose fourteen years of marriage does its trick, doesn’t it? One day we’ll just wake up and start wondering who that stranger sleeping in the same bed is.”

Wolfram startled at a shadow. But Yuuri didn’t hit him. He jerked as Yuuri grabbed his hair, pulling him to his knees and forcing his head up.

“Wolfram, if you…” Yuuri gritted his teeth. “If you ever think about leaving me because of some fuckhead… Wolfram, I’ll kill you both. I’ll… I’ll…” Yuuri jerked Wolfram’s head back, slamming the blond against the wall, his head hitting hard, before letting go and shooting to the door. It resisted and Yuuri pushed at it furiously, tearing the hook off.

Stunned and wide-eyed, Wolfram stared at the tub in front of him. He raised his hand to rub at the back of his head where a bump was already forming. Then another spasm seized his body and he leaned over the toilet.

XXXXX

A short time later, when Wolfram entered his room, he found Yuuri lying in his bed. At the sound of the door opening, Yuuri shifted, turning to face him. 

“Wolfram, I…”

“It’s alright.”

Yuuri raised his head to watch the blond’s dark contours move about in the room. Wolfram gasped as his foot hit something in the darkness then he finally reached the bed. Climbing in, he let Yuuri pull him back to his chest. Yuuri leaned his forehead onto his shoulder. It felt feverish, and even through the pajamas, it was burning him.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered softly. “It’s… When I think that it might end one day… I… I’m afraid, Wolfram.” 

Wolfram gazed at the dark room in front of him. He was not sure what it was. From time to time he would catch Yuuri staring at him with a shadowed look in his eyes. There was something deep within Yuuri and he was not sure if it had just recently been born or it had just finally freed itself.

“Tell me, Yuuri, why you think that.” He felt Yuuri tense behind him. “What changed?”

“I…” Yuuri rubbed his burning forehead against Wolfram’s shoulder while ruffling the fabric. “I think I’ve become more vulnerable. You… You can crush me with one word, it takes only one look from you… I can’t stand you saying things like you did in the bathroom. They scare me silly.”

Wolfram stayed silent for a few moments then turned around in Yuuri’s embrace to face him. “It’s the same power you have over me. I… I’m just good at pretending, Yuuri. I’m really good at that. I have the same fears and… I’m sorry for saying all that in the bathroom. You are my… Oh god,” Wolfram groaned.

“What? Again?”

Wolfram chuckled softly while rubbing his forehead. “No. I… I’ve just stopped myself from saying the most embarrassing thing ever.”

Yuuri smiled at him. “I think I’d have liked to hear it.”

Wolfram felt Yuuri’s hand slide over his side to caress him. He pressed himself to Yuuri, embracing him. “You are my world and reason for living, Yuuri. But no sex tonight. I feel really shitty.”

Yuuri laughed quietly. His fingers dove into the blond’s hair to stroke affectionately. “Well, the beginning of that was really nice to hear. The rest of it was not that passionate.” He felt his husband sigh against his chest. “I love you, Wolfram,” he muttered, “you know that.” Wolfram nodded against his chest, then winced as Yuuri’s fingers brushed over the back of his head. 

“I gave you a bump?” Yuuri asked. “Crap. Does it hurt? Is it serious? Maybe…?”

“Leave it alone,” Wolfram yawned. “It’s nothing. Cast a healing spell and it will heal in ten minutes.”

The room was lit by a green light. The snowflakes of soft green were leaving Yuuri’s fingertips and setting on Wolfram’s hair and around his shoulders. Soon Yuuri felt Wolfram nodding off. The blond’s body always reacted to healing spells like that – it relaxed and took the time it needed to heal.

Listening to Wolfram’s slowing breathing, he finished the spell and also settled down to sleep. It took some time, though before sleep claimed him.

XXXXX

It was about ten o’clock in the morning when Yuuri heard Wolfram coming downstairs. The blond’s first stop was the bathroom, then he tapped into the kitchen. Yuuri turned to look at him. Wolfram was wearing a T-shirt that was too big for him and jeans which made him look like he really were just a student, a student going in for sports, but a student nonetheless.

Wolfram cast a look at the steaming pot on the stove.

“What are you cooking?” he asked, yawning.

“I bought some spaghetti. Will you eat?”

Wolfram nodded. “Let me help you. What do I need to do?”

“Nothing much. Just get the plates ready. Oh, wait, you’ll help me make sauce.”

“Where are the women?” Wolfram asked. He leaned on the kitchen table with his hands and looked through the window at the neighboring house.

“Yesterday they saw a shop near here, so they went there. Should be back in a few minutes. Asami is going to bring Renata over, and then we’ll drive them to the station.” Yuuri moved to Wolfram. He wrapped his arms around the blond’s waist from behind and tugged Wolfram towards him to make his husband recline back against his body. He leaned in to kiss Wolfram on his lips when he turned around. 

“How do you feel?” Yuuri asked after their lips parted a few seconds later.

Wolfram nodded. “I’m fine. My head hurts a little but it’s nothing. Your healing spells are really effective.”

“What about the lump?” Yuuri asked with a note of shame clear in his voice.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

Wolfram shifted in his husband’s embrace and turned his head to the side to look at him. “Yuuri, it’s alright. The two of us were drunk and jealous.”

Watching the big green eyes, Yuuri nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He was not sure what Wolfram thought of this – he had never ever been violent because of jealousy. There were a few incidents between them, true, but those never were because he was jealous of Wolfram.

Wolfram smiled at him, and Yuuri leaned in to nip at the shorter male’s lips. As Wolfram eagerly participated, the nip turned into a short kiss, then into more of them. Wolfram turned around, and Yuuri’s hand slid around Wolfram’s waist and up his back to dive into the hair at Wolfram’s nape to support him. The kisses turned deeper and longer, their mouths joining, tongues meeting. Soon their breathing quickened, and Wolfram pushed at his husband’s chest indicating they needed to stop.

“Water’s boiling,” he grinned up at Yuuri mischievously.

“We’ll continue that as soon as they go away,” Yuuri muttered, reluctantly letting go of Wolfram.

Wolfram laughed at that. He wiped at his lips to clean their saliva off. “Make that a promise.”

Yuuri went to the counter where the pot was spitting water from under the lid. Yuuri turned to Wolfram waving two packets in his hands. Wolfram walked over to him and took one. 

“These are noodles, Yuuri.” He said after turning over the packet in his hand several times. “But why are they that long? It will be difficult to eat them.”

Chuckling, Yuuri opened the packet he had in his hands and started filling the boiling pot with spaghetti. “I suppose you’re right. It’s that people on Earth like various things and, usually, the more difficult they are to prepare and eat the better value they seem to have…”

“It only proves that Humans are stupid,” Wolfram mumbled, tossing the second packet back to Yuuri who caught it nimbly.

Yuuri shrugged. “Well, some of their customs are really weird, but so are many of Mazoku’s,” he said, smiling. “For example, I never imagined I could get married by slapping some random blond.” He finished pouring the second packet and threw them both away into the bin under the counter. 

“Very funny,” Wolfram muttered. He walked over to the table and sat down at it. He watched his husband stirring the spaghetti so that it would not stick to the bottom of the pot, then going to the fridge. For a minute Yuuri was ransacking the fridge, his upper half deep inside it. Then Yuuri put a cutting-board with a piece of raw meat on it onto the table in front of Wolfram. 

“Here,” he held out a knife for Wolfram to take. “Cut it into small pieces. I’ll fry them for the sauce.”

The meal was done right before the women came back. The table had been already set and it was only left to fill the plates. After leaving their shopping bags at the door, Surya and Hether went into the kitchen. Surya blinked at the bright light coming from the window. She turned to look at the blond who was smiling brightly and chatting with Yuuri while showing no signs of hangover. That was not fair.

They sat down to eat and Wolfram poured some juice for everyone while Yuuri was distributing the meal.

“Hey, you are not bad,” Surya said after tasting the spaghetti. Her brown eyes grinned at Yuuri.

“Unlike me, Yuuri is a good cook,” Wolfram agreed.

Smiling, Yuuri turned to Wolfram. It seemed that yesterday’s bad mood had dissipated completely. Yuuri was blissfully content that everything was alright between them. He hated it when he and Wolfram had spats.

“You’ve something on your face here,” Yuuri said, reaching out with his fingers to wipe at the corner of Wolfram’s lips. He froze suddenly. Slowly, he removed his hand. He could feel gazes scorching his back. He turned to look at the women.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Surya waved it off, giggling at Yuuri’s quite disturbed facial expression. “We know it all. We heard some of that little drama in the bathroom last night. Poor Hether,” she patted her friend on her arm. Hether rolled her eyes.

Wolfram and Yuuri both blushed brightly.

“Even though I could not understand the words, the emotions were pretty clear,” Surya shrugged. “Was that in Swiss?” 

Wolfram blinked at first then nodded quickly. When he was pissed or frayed he always switched over to his native tongue no mater which language he had been speaking in before. It was just something he did instinctively. After he had switched languages, Yuuri had probably followed him automatically.

Surya’s attention went to Yuuri. “Yuuri, I hope he’s legal?”

Yuuri frowned. For some reason this was really getting on his nerves. That was not Surya’s fault, but he couldn’t help a sudden wave of anger that arose within him.

Wolfram burst out laughing at Surya’s question. “Sure, Yuuri is my sugar daddy.” 

Yuuri tensed at that.

The blond couldn’t stop laughing even after Yuuri jabbed him with his elbow. It was no use telling Surya that he was older than Yuuri anyway.

“Wolfram, can I finally eat calmly?!” Yuuri snapped.

Wolfram’s mouth closed. He gave Yuuri a little surprised look then dug into his spaghetti.

Surya’s brown eyes left the now quiet Wolfram to concentrate on Yuuri who seemed to be irritated to no end. “I was just kidding,” she said.

Yuuri said nothing, but from the look he gave Surya, the woman understood that he found nothing funny in her words. 

“Well, it’s laudable, your self-sacrifice, for Asami,” Hether said, smiling tentatively.

Wolfram grinned at her. “The two of them had better have done something more than holding hands in the moonlight.”

Hether and Surya laughed at that. Yuuri couldn’t help smiling, too.

Further into the meal, Yuuri realized that he had been too huffy. He got from the table and, after digging up in the fridge for some time, offered a bottle of good wine for an apology and soon everyone’s mood improved.

Asami arrived about fifteen minutes later, after they were done eating. He and Renata were smiling non-stop and seemed to be very content with their new acquaintanceship. They greeted everyone cheerfully, and joined the others at the table, now cleared of the dirty dishes. Short presentations on experienced events were exchanged, but the bus was leaving half an hour later, and the women had to get ready quickly. Yuuri and Wolfram saw them to the gate, goodbyes were exchanged, and Asami took the women to the station.

Once Asami’s car was out of view, Wolfram exhaled loudly. “Finally we have our vacation to ourselves.”

“Hey, it hasn’t been that bad, has it?” Yuuri chuckled, while following the blond back into the house.

Wolfram entered the kitchen then cast a look at the pile of dishes in the sink. “Well, whose turn is it today?” His blond brows rose as Yuuri’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

“To hell with the dishes, Wolfram,” Yuuri purred while nuzzling his nape. “Let’s do something more interesting.”

“Hmm?” Wolfram lowered his head to give more access to Yuuri’s ministrations. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“We haven’t done it on the kitchen table yet,” Yuuri said while pushing Wolfram forward to the aforementioned table. The blond’s legs pressed against the edge of the table. Yuuri rubbed himself against the blond’s jeans. When Wolfram’s backside pushed back against him, he knew Wolfram was ready to consider the suggestion. “What do you say to that?”

“Won’t it be strange to eat at the same table with other people, then?”

“Well, we still use the same sofa, bathtub and the car…” Yuuri grinned into Wolfram’s neck. He blew at the tiny tendrils, which made Wolfram squirm in his arms. Yuuri’s hands slid under the blond’s loose T-shirt to caress his stomach. His fingers brushed over the warm and smooth skin, and Wolfram leaned forward to rest his palms on the table. Unseen by the blond, Yuuri gave a mischievous grin. Sometimes, Wolfram was a pushover.

Yuuri’s hands rose further up the blond’s stomach until they reached his chest and nipples. Wolfram gasped and bucked against Yuuri’s front when his husband pinched them lightly. Yuuri slid his palms over the now fully erect buds to soothe them. Wolfram’s eyelids fluttered and closed shut.

“I haven’t taken a shower yet,” Wolfram muttered. He turned his head to the side, but was met by Yuuri’s mouth descending on his. Yuuri’s left hand left his nipple to dive into the blond’s hair to keep Wolfram’s head turned in that awkward position while the two of them were kissing. Yuuri adored his husband’s hair. Blond was not that rare a color in Shin Makoku, but Wolfram took such good care of his hair. It was always soft and smooth and fell into rich bangs that just called out to be touched. And touch he did.

Still kissing, Wolfram pushed himself off the table to turn around and face Yuuri. That didn’t give the blond much freedom as his husband pressed himself to the front of his body, wedged himself between his thighs and pushed him back to the edge of the table. Yuuri’s kisses became more demanding and deeper, Wolfram squirmed against the table but his husband didn’t even budge. Yuuri clearly wanted to have the upper hand with him.

Wolfram protested, “Yuuri, it cuts into my legs.” He pushed against Yuuri’s chest with his palms.

“No problem,” Yuuri grinned against his mouth. His hands slipped under the blond’s backside, grabbing a handful of the supple flesh and pressing them together so there was no empty space between left. Ah, there, in the pocket. One could always trust Wolfram to carry lube around, especially if he was promised sex.

Getting the small container out of the pocket, Yuuri put it onto the table next to Wolfram. The table was not that clean but Yuuri was sure that Wolfram’s annoying T-shirt wouldn’t mind it much.

“Yuu…!” Wolfram yelped and grabbed at Yuuri’s shoulders for balance as he suddenly lost his footage. The prince found himself lifted. His bottom hit the surface of the table firmly, the table groaning at the sudden weight.

“Better?” Yuuri purred against Wolfram’s lips before reclaiming them. Leaning over the blond, he slipped his hand in between his legs to caress the inner thighs. He brushed his hand back and forward a few times then squeezed lightly. Drawing away, he rubbed his thigh between Wolfram’s legs to entice the already visible bulge. 

Wolfram’s answer was to reach out to Yuuri’s shirt where he started fumbling with the buttons which, as usual in such cases, appeared to be way too small to be dealt with easily. Yuuri could feel Wolfram’s erection straining against his thigh, his husband starting to rub against him shamelessly. His shirt finally open, Wolfram’s palms slid over his chest and around to the back of his shoulders. Yuuri drew back a little to shrug the shirt off. He then found and undid the button on Wolfram’s jeans, unzipping them slowly. The covered bulge swelled even further until it stretched the underwear’s fabric. The blond leaned closer to Yuuri when the warm palm cupped him. 

After giving a few languid back and forth strokes, Yuuri let go of the shaft. His hands slid from Wolfram’s sides to his waist where he tugged at the blond’s jeans. 

Wolfram lay back onto the table and lifted his hips for Yuuri who pulled the jeans and underwear off him. Yuuri tossed them somewhere behind his back where they fell with a soft thud.

The erection that sprang out after being freed looked enticing and Yuuri licked his lips involuntary. He moved in closer and bent over Wolfram. The prince’s lust-filled eyes were locked on Yuuri’s face, and Wolfram shivered lightly as Yuuri’s lips touched the head of his penis. Yuuri’s tongue snuck out to tease the slit. Wolfram exhaled loudly, the tension in his spinal muscles turning liquid and his body stretching out against the table while his lower part tensed in anticipation. 

Yuuri teased him for quite some time, licking at the head then blowing lightly at the damp skin. Wolfram grunted when the head of his cock finally disappeared between Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri drew a little back and held Wolfram’s hips down as they instinctively pushed upward.

His head bobbing up and down, and his hand stroking what his mouth did not reach, Yuuri fondled the sack then stroked the sensitive skin between them and anus. He could hear Wolfram starting to pant, moans forming in his throat and involuntary slipping past his lips. He felt the prince’s hand slip into his hair to offer a slight pressure and try to get more of his mouth onto him. Yuuri hummed around the cock in his mouth to entice the blond even more, then pulled away, letting the glistening shaft slide out of his mouth.

Wolfram did not want to let go of him, though. Chasing the addictive warmth, his back rose off the table. His hand caught Yuuri by his belt and pulled. Yuuri leaned in to give him a sloppy kiss then started unclasping his belt. Once done with the trousers, he kicked them aside. He grabbed at Wolfram’s obscenely large and irritating T-shirt and pulled at it. Wolfram raised his upper half and hands to help Yuuri get rid of the shirt.

Yuuri flung the T-shirt onto the table, as Wolfram’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulders, not letting him straighten. His right hand slid over Yuuri’s wide back to press their now completely naked bodies together. Their mouths clashed again, Yuuri temporally forgetting about the lube that he was holding in his hand. Wolfram had always been good at kissing. The blond’s kisses alone could almost make him come.

Yuuri broke the kiss first. He fumbled with the container while uncapping it, then squeezed out a generous amount of lubricant. First, he coated himself, then pushed his hand in between Wolfram’s thighs. His thighs now smeared with cool lubricant, Wolfram shifted. He spread his legs wider to let Yuuri lubricate him. He moaned softly at the feel of Yuuri’s fingers breaching him.

A few seconds of stretching and lubricating, Yuuri pulled his fingers out. He did not have enough patience for this. He grabbed at the discarded T-shirt to wipe his soggy fingers, then took hold of Wolfram’s hips and pulled him closer, so that his backside was right over the edge of the table. He lifted Wolfram’s left leg to hook it over his shoulder. He did the same with the blond’s other leg, now supporting the blond’s waist and backside with his hands while Wolfram was bracing himself with his hands and upper back. 

Wolfram’s head fell back with a soft thud when Yuuri started pushing in. He blinked at the bright sun falling from the window and turned his head to the side. A low groan left his throat while Yuuri was thrusting in inch by inch. 

“Yuuri,” Wolfram flushed red, “we are flashing the neighbors.” He gasped as Yuuri pushed deeper. “Close the blinds.”

“Can’t reach. They can close their own.”

Quivering at the tight fit, Yuuri exhaled shakily. Staying still except for rocking against Wolfram’s backside, he waited for the blond to adjust. Feeling Wolfram’s hips picking up the rocking, he drew a little back, then pushed forward again. Encouraged by the prince’s loud moans, he deepened his thrusts and soon had a rhythm going.

Wolfram’s fingers curled on the table surface, searching for something to claw into. His body felt feverish and he couldn’t stop moaning at the feel of Yuuri’s hard member sliding in and out of him. Gods, how he loved that incredible feeling of pleasure in his ass which then would spread throughout his entire body. 

“Do you like it, Wolfram?” Yuuri grunted, watching Wolfram toss his head from side to side. His cock was leaking profusely, leaving a smear on the blond’s stomach. A fine layer of sweat was gathering on Wolfram’s skin making it glisten in the sunlight. “Do you like my cock up your ass?”

Wolfram moaned lightly. “Fuck, Yuuri,” he panted after opening his eyes and meeting Yuuri’s dark ones.

Yuuri thrust hard, making Wolfram’s body rock and the table squeak. “C’mon, tell me how much you like it!”

Wolfram bit his lower lip at the way forceful thrusts made his body even more restless. “You know I love it,” he grunted out. “Love it, want it!”

Yuuri rocked against Wolfram feverishly, his body now at its limit. He tried to hold it in, but then felt Wolfram starting to tighten around him as seconds later the blond’s back arched off the table, his open mouth releasing a loud guttural groan to mark his orgasm. Yuuri’s sense and reason were gone then, too. His body tight as a bowstring, he also came, shooting load after load into Wolfram, jerking against the blond’s backside. He tried to thrust a few times to draw out the pleasure, but Wolfram was too tight around him to move, so he just rocked.

Panting, Yuuri sank down on top of Wolfram who exhaled loudly at the heavy weight. “That was good, wasn’t it?” Yuuri puffed out.

Wolfram agreed with a breathless nod. 

TBC


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Credits go for: Lord Truhan for mentioning “some human stones” and which gave me the idea to include them into the chapter. Also for my beta-reader Melisenda for remembering all the useful stuff from KKM. Also for contributing to this chapter by letting me use her written down opinion about Yuuri and Wolfram’s relationship. Thank you. *hugs*

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 3

Yuuri raised his head as he heard the doorbell ring. He stopped washing dishes and looked around for a towel to dry his hands. Carrying the towel and wiping his hands, he left the kitchen to answer the door. Asami waved at him from behind the glass in the door.

“Hey, why would you lock the door in the middle of the day?” he wondered as soon as he was let in. “Oh,” he said after Yuuri stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned around to give him a meaningful look. “Ah, sorry about that,” Asami muttered sheepishly. “Am I being a nuisance?”

Yuuri laughed softly. “Nah. Have you forgotten that we agreed to get them out of the way?”

Following Yuuri into the kitchen, Asami scratched his head. “Well, yeah, but it was for my sake…”

Yuuri waved that off with a light flick of his hand. He tossed the towel onto the table and closed the kitchen door behind them tightly so as to make as little noise as possible. 

“Put the teakettle on.” He waited for Asami to fill it, then finished washing the dishes that were left in the sink.

“So how did it go with Renata?” Yuuri inquired while taking the kettle off the stove to make tea for Asami and himself. Then he took a seat at the table.

Asami’s face was lit by a huge grin. He plopped onto the chair opposite Yuuri. “She’s great. Thanks, man. Really.” He gave Yuuri a wink. “The night was incredible.”

Yuuri grinned at him. “Good. So will you two stick together for longer or just leave it at this?”

Asami’s face beamed again. “We are meeting next Friday. I’m taking her out to a restaurant. You know, the one near the Framada shopping centre?” 

Yuuri nodded, chuckling. “Yeah, that’s probably the most expensive one in the city. I hope she’ll have some mercy on you.”

Asami shrugged that off with a soft smile. “And where’s Wolfram?” he asked.

“Sleeping.”

“Sleeping? Does he have a hangover? He seemed fine to me earlier.”

Yuuri’s eyebrow rose. Was Asami that dense or was it the new blinding love that made him so? “We just fucked on this table,” he patted the surface, “I think I tired him out a bit.”

Asami flushed red. “Ewww! There’s no need to be so lewd!”

Yuuri shrugged. “Then stop asking stupid questions.” He burst out laughing after noticing Asami’s eyes flitting over the surface of the table. “Don’t worry, I wiped it off really well.”

Asami gave an awkward laugh. He sighed then. “You two are really something… I can’t believe the two of you almost started making out in the bar-restaurant yesterday!” He shook his head, laughing. “I almost had a heart attack! And to think you told me that there was a time when you were afraid to even touch him…”

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to blush. “Heh… Damn, we get pretty stupid when drunk.”

“Especially Wolfram,” Asami stressed.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed, “especially him. It was good that you were there. They would have thrown us out of the restaurant.” Rubbing his forehead, he sighed. “I am not able to say “no” to him.”

“Aww…so nice,” Asami teased. He leaned back into his chair, heaving a sigh. “Hell, you had it all so easy… No looking for someone, no courting, no headaches about presents, no heartbreaks, nothing to worry about. He just stood at your side the whole time.”

Yuuri rolled his mug between his hands. “True, Wolfram was the only one and he was always there for me,” he said, musing. “But…” His eyes darkened. “It’s not all calm waters as it seems on the surface… Our relationship… It’s not that easy.”

Asami watched him for a second with curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “Say, Yuuri, did you sleep with anyone besides him?” he whispered.

Yuuri choked on his tea. He started coughing. Patting himself on his chest to get his breathing back, Yuuri muttered, “What kind of question is that?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Asami gave him a sly smirk. “It can’t be that Wolfram is the only one you ever…”

Yuuri frowned at him. “I’m a busy man, Asami; I don’t even get enough time to think about that.”

“That’s in Shin Makoku. But what about Earth?” Asami pressed further.

Yuuri thought for a few seconds if he wanted to answer the question at all, then sighed. “Hell, I’m a man. Of course I am always tempted and there were a couple of close ones... But you know, a relationship is like a two-edged sword – if I start breaking the rules, I can expect the same. And there’s nothing out there that would make me risk my and Wolfram’s bond.” 

“Hmm… What pretentious words,” Asami drawled, but Yuuri only shrugged at that silently. “And what about Wolfram, are you sure that he has never strayed?” He regretted asking that instantly as Yuuri shot him such a look that it froze his body. Why was Yuuri so ticked off today? Those were normal questions – they had talked about these kinds of things a few times.

“I’m pretty sure of that!” Yuuri snapped at him. “I know that with Kyota it was more serious than a few kisses, but it’s also clear that they didn’t go all the way. Actually…” Actually the first truly serious sex he had with Wolfram was a real disaster. He had made Wolfram bleed. The two of them got quite scared, it was such a mess. It took them some time until they gathered their courage to try and have anal sex again.

“But it still makes you jealous?” Asami asked tentatively, when it was obvious that his friend was not going to finish his thought. “Your reaction is quite…” Yuuri glared at him again, and Asami wondered why exactly Yuuri was getting angry with him. 

“It was a long damn time ago! Besides, I like to think it would never occur again... I…” Yuuri clenched his left fist, and Asami became worried that Yuuri would crush the mug in his right hand.

“Oh, actually I haven’t seen Kyota for quite some time. How is he doing?” That was not a very good thing to ask either, Asami noticed, as Yuuri’s face didn’t clear of the clouds.

“I’m not that sure,” Yuuri said. He lifted his mug to have a sip. “He didn’t take it well after Amae disappeared and couldn’t settle down for a few years. I’m not sure, really. You also heard Wolfram talking about a new lover of his, but with Kyota, it’s… You should ask Wolfram – he really knows more than me.”

“And it also pisses you off?”

“Yes, it does!” Yuuri snapped at him, his voice a low growl.

“Yuuri, what is the real reason behind your vacation?”

Yuuri paled slightly, then seemed to become unbelievably interested in the contents of his mug. 

“Yuuri, is there something with you and Wolfram?” Asami asked tentatively. “Are you…I don’t know…Using this vacation to work on your relationship?” He watched Yuuri put the mug back onto the table slowly. Yuuri hunched over the table to rest his forehead on his crossed hands, which hid his face completely.

“It’s… Asami, I… There is nothing…no ties that I have left here. I’ve just recently realized to the full extent that I’ll outlive everyone I have ever known on Earth. I’m just running like one of those hamsters in that spinning wheel. I’m so tired, Asami. Mearan, Earth, Ekara, Aliran. Who the fuck cares about that? My mother…she’s become old. But that… And I have so fucking much time on my hands it’s scary. Despite that… You are right,” he nodded into his hands, still not raising his head.

Yuuri fell silent, and Asami wondered what he wanted to say. But then Yuuri raised his head to look at him. The man’s eyes were desperate.

“Wolfram… Have you seen how he looks?” Yuuri asked him. “No more than twenty! He has not changed much at all! Soon I’ll look old enough to be his father! What if…you know, one day I wake up and he won’t be beside me anymore? What the hell will I do with all that time? I… Oh god. I’m so afraid to lose him.”

Asami stared at Yuuri for a few seconds. What was going on between the two? “Shit, Yuuri, have you ever talked with Wolfram about this?”

Yuuri shook his head in denial. “Not really. Some of it. When I think of all that I have around… It feels as if the world would just collapse like a house of cards if he's not around me.”

Asami reached his hand out to rub Yuuri’s shoulder. “I think you should talk to him. Wolfram really loves you. Saying all this might not change anything, but you would feel calmer after pouring it all out to him.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I’m afraid, Asami. I’m afraid of the answer I might get.” Yuuri shrugged Asami’s hand off. He turned his face away. “There’s something going on with Wolfram,” he muttered bitterly. “Disappearing somewhere, thinking about something, then looking lost when I ask him about it. When... when I think that he might have found someone… I can’t afford to lose him! I don’t want to!”

Asami stared at him. “So you took him away from Shin Makoku to keep him away from…? Yuuri…”

Yuuri’s head snapped up. “Yes, I did! What else was I supposed to do!?” he shouted, jumping up from his chair. “I know it’s only a temporary measure, but…!”

“Yuuri, calm down,” Asami pushed at his shoulders to force him back into his place. “Do you know for sure?”

Yuuri’s fists clenched. “Hell, if I knew for sure, I’d… You heard how he was talking about that Leahir. And Kyota…”

“So you don’t?” Asami rubbed his forehead, ignoring the rest of Yuuri’s tirade. He was sure that all of it was only in Yuuri’s head. Wolfram would not lower himself to fucking someone secretly behind Yuuri’s back. Another thing was...even if he did, Wolfram was too smart to be caught like this. But Yuuri’s insecurities made him think and see non-existing things. 

“Yuuri, brooding over all of this only makes you more paranoid,” Asami said. “I can’t imagine how you were able to bear it for all this time. How long have you been suspecting him? You’ve got to talk to Wolfram. Even if it’s as you say, then you’d know what to do. One way or another, you’d solve it.”

Yuuri’s harsh laughter echoed in the kitchen. “Solve it? Yes, sure. All I am doing recently is trying to avoid solving it.”

“Yuuri,” Asami interrupted him, “cut it out. The more you think, the deeper you sink in your own suspicions and imagination. You need to clear this up with Wolfram.”

Yuuri’s fingers played with the mug, then he lifted it to finish drinking the leftovers. He muttered, “Yeah, I know that, and it scares me shitless. And in case there’s really nothing happening, I’ll just fuck things up.”

“Promise me you’ll do it as soon as he wakes up,” Asami demanded. “I doubt Wolfram would see it as a very negative thing. He might get angry if it’s nothing... but on the other hand, I know that he’ll feel flattered by your jealousy.” Yuuri looked at him sideways. Asami sighed. “Have you always been this much of a coward?” He ruffled his hair at the glare Yuuri offered him. “Fine, do what you want.” He got up and turned towards the door. He had no wish for his presence to be Yuuri’s convenient excuse in stalling the conversation with his husband.

Quieted, Yuuri got up to see Asami off. He knew that Asami was worried about him. He was regretting a little having exploded like that and sharing his suspicions with his friend. It was not like Asami could help him.

After letting his friend out, Yuuri climbed upstairs. The bedroom was silent, Wolfram still asleep in their bed. It was quite warm in the house and Wolfram’s left leg and part of his right arm were sticking out from under the covers. Yuuri’s eyes lingered on the wedding bracelet on the blond’s wrist, then rose to Wolfram’s face, which was turned to the door. He watched the relaxed features for a while before approaching his husband. They did not have anal sex that frequently – oral, masturbation and other kinds of sex were less messy. But recently...Yuuri was sure that Wolfram had noticed that more and more often, anal sex was outstripping any other activity.

He needn’t have released inside Wolfram today. If Wolfram did not need to replenish his powers – and today he did not –,Yuuri rarely released inside the blond, as the process of power swapping was exhausting and sometimes even painful. In spite of that, lately the possessiveness, jealousy and inner disquiet over the blond had taken over his mind. He loved seeing how his powers would manifest in Wolfram’s body. The blond then having the ability to use them, and at the same time showing everyone to whom he belonged. 

Feeling slightly ashamed of himself, Yuuri sat down on the bed. Thoughts like these confused and unnerved him. He was afraid he was turning into a tyrant, trying to take over his husband’s life and control him. He knew that there was no way Wolfram would tolerate or live with that. There was no chance that Wolfram would let himself be locked in a golden cage. Wolfram was a man and that's how he wanted to be treated, not like some hot house flower.

For Wolfram, it was easier. He grew up in an environment where sword-swinging men could, and did, fall in love with other sword-swinging men. For Yuuri though, he wanted to safeguard Wolfram, to keep him out of any danger or threat. Yuuri wanted to be the Hero, to fight the monster, save the day and then have his woman praise him for it. The thing was, his 'woman' was able to do the same...or even better.

Yuuri brushed over Wolfram’s uncovered leg with his own. A fine, barely visible layer of hairs lightly covered it. His own legs, where they were not hidden by shorts, were covered with a much more visible sheen of dark hair. Yuuri watched as the blond stirred slightly, his right arm brushing over the sheets underneath, but he did not wake up. Being beside him, unconsciously breathing his scent, Wolfram felt safe enough not to react to anything. That was nice to know.

Yuuri’s eyes set on the shiny piece of metal around the blond’s wrist again. It was the same one he had given Wolfram almost fifteen years ago, with a dent on the side that had appeared when Wolfram fell off his horse and knocked it against a stone. Wrapping his arm around the blond, Yuuri reached to brush his fingers over the bracelet. It badly needed polishing.

XXXXX

From the television set where he was watching a documentary about the possible formation of the universe, Wolfram turned to look at Yuuri who had just entered the living-room.

“Slept well?”

Yawning, Yuuri ruffled through his messy hair. He had not even noticed when he fell asleep. “What time is it?”

“It’s half past four.”

Huffing, Yuuri walked over to the sofa and dropped onto it. He still felt somewhat drowsy. He had slept for a few hours. Thank gods Wolfram was not wearing that idiotic T-shirt anymore. This time it was another, much shorter and smaller in size. But he was not sure if he liked how it clung to Wolfram’s body to show the lithe contours off.

“Do you feel okay?” Yuuri asked Wolfram after a pause.

His husband nodded. “Yeah.”

“Shall we go shopping? The stores should still be open.”

Wolfram switched the TV off and tossed the remote onto the table in front of him. “Hmm? What do we need?” he asked.

“Some clothes maybe. But I’d like to get you a gift. But you are quite picky, so I thought about taking you with me.”

“Huh? A gift? What’s the occasion?” Wolfram wondered, being suspicious, already starting to count Yuuri’s sins and speculate whether he had forgotten to include some.

There was something uneasy in the blond’s voice, Yuuri noticed. Wolfram had never been a huge enthusiast for getting gifts. He liked them, but only if they were more of an innocent kind and didn’t have that particular smell of graft or a buy-off. And Yuuri had learned long ago that trying to earn the blond’s forgiveness by presenting him something was a hopeless case and only made Wolfram even angrier. But it was not really that in his husband’s voice this time.

“Well, our wedding anniversary,” Yuuri said. “Soon we'll have been married for fifteen years. I just thought we should use the opportunity.”

“Oh.” The emerald in Wolfram’s eyes swirled in some strange disturbance which did not go unnoticed by Yuuri. It was obvious that he had not thought about that. “Alright,” Wolfram nodded. “I was also planning on buying some souvenirs for everyone in Shin Makoku.”

That was his chance to pry a bit more. “How many of them will you need?”

Wolfram closed his eyes while counting. “Oh, hell,” he groaned a few seconds later, “too many.” He hated shopping.

“I think Kyota mentioned something about liking your cologne or something,” Yuuri noted.

Content, Wolfram nodded. “Oh, right. A good idea.”

“Do you think Kyota has finally found the one?” Yuuri offered in a conversational tone.

Wolfram gave Yuuri a little surprised look. “You mean Leahir?” He shrugged then. “No, I don’t think so. Leahir is too similar to Kyota. The two of them rather strike me more as…sex-buddies than lovers. I doubt it will turn into something more serious.”

Yuuri leaned back into the sofa. Was he barking up the wrong tree?

“He and Kyota have recently been visiting us more frequently…” Yuuri drawled while putting his hands behind his head.

“Hm? Isn’t it because Leahir is trying to strike that deal with the von Christ family?”

Yuuri opened his mouth. “W…”

“We should visit your parents,” Wolfram said, cutting him off rather abruptly. “Your mother said something about dinner together. Call her. We could just go over after shopping.”

Yuuri nodded slowly. “Yes, we could.” Maybe it was not the wrong tree after all. 

XXXXX

Some of the shops were already closing when they got to the mall, but most of them were still open and were going to stay open for another hour or two. Wolfram knew that Yuuri decided to go shopping at this time of day because they both did not like it – shopping tired them. Personally, Yuuri could take no more than two hours or so. Later his head would start spinning and hurting from the varicolored lights and things, plus the noises emitted by the streaming mass of people. Wolfram could hardly take an hour of that. Between trying to deal with the culture shock of being in a world that was not his, and at the same time trying to be both bodyguard and husband, a shopping trip amongst the crowd was close to his idea of torture. He never had or needed many things, so he always preferred sending maids or servants to shop for him. They didn't always bring back exactly what he wanted, but after years and years of having served him, they knew his taste pretty well.

“Choosing something for Gwendal?” Yuuri asked when Wolfram took interest in a showcase displaying hundreds of toys. “Going to buy something plushy?”

“Hmm…no,” Wolfram shook his head. “Unless it’s really…” he frowned before spitting the word out, “…cute. But I thought about buying him some yarn. It’s rather the process of knitting that he likes.”

Yuuri nodded, agreeing. “A good idea. Well, we still have a few days left, so we’ll find some.”

Yuuri liked being in a couple. Instead of running around and looking for souvenirs, he could simply join Wolfram in buying something, which was considered a gift from them both. That was convenient. Yuuri turned to another window behind which varicolored bottles of perfume and fragrance were arranged. Wolfram soon noticed his interest and they went inside.

After having smelled so many bottles that his eyes started watering, Wolfram finally chose the one he liked the most. He held out his palm for Yuuri, who started fumbling within his pockets, then put his credit card on it. That was also the part of the deal in being a couple, but Yuuri loved that because it gave him at least some feeling of power over Wolfram. Sadly, it only occurred on Earth.

“And what about Leahir?” Yuuri asked. “Going to buy anything for him?”

Wolfram shrugged. “Why should I? I don’t even know him that well. Let Kyota shower him with gifts.” He held out his hand to take the card and the small bag with the bottle from the shop assistant. The blond nodded at her and turned to the exit.

“Well, see anything you’d want me to get for you?” Yuuri asked a few minutes later after walking past the various showcases. “Or shall we go to different shops?” he teased, sliding his arm around Wolfram’s waist.

“Hmm?” Wolfram hummed questioningly.

“The adult ones,” Yuuri grinned at him, “to get some handcuffs and dildos. You quite liked the last time you got tied up…”

“I just got entangled in my shirt!” Wolfram protested, smacking at Yuuri’s hand on his waist. “People are staring at us!”

“Hell, you look sexy when you blush,” Yuuri chuckled, not even thinking about getting his arm off the blond.

“It’s because they are gaping at us and whispering!”

“No, you liked the idea,” Yuuri grinned while tugging Wolfram even closer to him, making the blond’s step fall out of rhythm, “Seriously, admit it.”

“Alright, I liked the idea; now get your arm off!”

Yuuri slid his arm off. Wolfram was not as displeased as he tried to show. Even if Yuuri was only a half-blood, he could smell a very faint scent of arousal around the blond. Wolfram wanted him. Wolfram always wanted and never refused him and that was one of the reasons why he was still reluctant to confront the blond directly. Wolfram loved him. Other things… Yuuri could overlook them if only that would help save his and Wolfram’s relationship.

“There,” Yuuri pointed at a showcase farther on.

Wolfram’s green eyes followed the motion and settled on a huge red plate. Yuuri was serious it seemed. Wolfram followed his husband into the store.

“I suppose we need some lubricant,” Wolfram said, after casting his eyes over the shelves. He fought his blush down. It was not his first time at a sex shop, of course, but it wasn’t as if he was frequenting them constantly. Usually it was Yuuri who took care of that - Earth was his native planet after all.

“What kind of taste and smell do you want?” Yuuri asked, while walking over to the shop assistant. 

“I don’t really care, but please, no strawberries this time,” Wolfram muttered. “Or any other sweet fruit, for that matter,” he added.

“Chocolate, then?”

Wolfram sighed. “I just said: “no sweet”.”

“Well, I am not into fruity stuff either, but I like chocolate.”

Wolfram ruffled through his hair, nodding. “Alright, whatever pleases you. I like the smell of the current one and it’s really good.”

Yuuri smiled. “Sure, we can stock up on that one. Now, how about handcuffs?”

Wolfram looked at him with his brow raised. “You sure are determined about this, aren’t you? Fine, get them, but you are the one that they will be used on.”

Yuuri gave him a mischievous grin. “We’ll just see about that. Anything else?”

“I think handcuffs more or less cover it,” Wolfram muttered. “But grab some more condoms, too. Be sure those are not the stinky ones from the previous time.”

“You know I don’t buy those anymore.”

Observing the rest of the shelves with interest, Wolfram waited for Yuuri to pay for their goods. Some of the articles on display they had tried out, some of their purpose he did not even know. Their sex life was as good as ever – Wolfram had nothing to complain about. He could tell that Yuuri put more effort than he did into spicing it up, but he could also tell that Yuuri liked to feel himself the initiator and the more active of the two of them. Sometimes it would become irritating, but knowing that it gave Yuuri pleasure, let him allow Yuuri to do what he wanted and accept it with a feeling of light amusement.

With a filled bag they left the shop. Wolfram took it from Yuuri who said he wanted to go to the toilets. Yuuri left, and the blond turned to a nearby stall over which he could see ads of hamburgers, hotdogs and instant food. Wolfram bought hamburgers for himself and Yuuri then looked around. He turned in the direction of an empty bench that was a short distance away.

Wolfram jerked away from a passer-by, who, having calmly walked past him, suddenly turned around and threw himself at him. Instead of slipping into Wolfram’s pocket, a red stone clattered down onto the white tiles and shattered into hundreds of pieces. Nonetheless, Wolfram could feel a wave of nausea pass through his system. He moved away from the smithereens immediately.

When the first plan did not succeed, a sharp blade glistened in the desperate attacker’s hand. The prince tossed the bags aside, the boxes and food scattering around on the pavement. Now, from up close, Wolfram could see that despite the dark hair, the man’s eyes were muddy green. The hair was obviously dyed. Wolfram’s foot caught the man in the stomach even before he could bring the knife down, making the attacker fly into the air and then crash down onto the tiles where he landed on his back heavily. 

Warning screams echoed in the square, and Wolfram was just in time to jump back as a flash of lightning struck the pavement where he had just been standing. The hair on his nape standing on end, the blond’s eyes flickered away from the unconscious opponent and the lightly smoking hole in the pavement and took in the square around him. About twenty meters away from him there were four other men who were summoning or had already summoned their elements. Other three were obviously not element wielders, as they all had Esoteric Stones in their hands and were rushing towards him. All of them had dark hair and wore common clothes on Earth. He could not see their eyes from that far, though. The enemy had him in a tight circle. The square was already half-empty, people running away, with their mobile phones out, apparently calling the police, some women were screaming mindlessly. 

Even if there was some distance between the wielders and the ones carrying the stones, Wolfram was impressed by the way the element wielders were able to endure the affects of the stones. As for him…a strategic retreat was the best option or soon they might have him dead. That and half of the mall was going to be destroyed in the process, which would mean that if he survived this, Yuuri was going to kill him later anyway.

Wolfram threw himself to the right where it was clear of the humans with Esoteric stones. The element wielder there threw a burst of fire at him, and Wolfram summoned Yuuri’s air element to block it. He not only defended himself by dispersing the fire, but also overwhelmed the attacker lifting the man off his feet and throwing him back into the wall of the building where he sagged down, unconscious. 

Wolfram ducked and skidded aside as another red-colored stone whipped right past him. A wave of nausea and light-headedness almost forced him to his knees. Panting, the prince raised his head. He was glad he had not eaten anything before leaving the house or it would have had him heaving right now. Shit, this was not fun in the least. Wolfram dove to the side and rolled over the pavement to avoid another blast of fire. There was something off with the way they were attacking him.

Silence settled in the square as a wall of fire encircled Wolfram and he suddenly blinked out of view.

Wolfram looked around. He had opened a gate to Shin Makoku, at the lake he visited frequently. The summer was in full swing. When he and his husband had left Shin Makoku it had been late spring, trees covered in soft greenish buds, only a few trees shyly displaying their fragile blooms. The weather had also been dreadful, nothing to compare to the currently sizzling sun above his head. The surface of the lake was also calm, the peaceful wind hardly stroking the surface, the leaves of the trees stirring lazily only from time to time.

Wolfram started as suddenly he saw a wall of fire appear about ten meters before him. His eyes snapped to the side where another column of water materialized in the middle of the meadow. The prince’s fire element engulfed the watery substance even before the gate finished forming. A loud explosion tore through the air. The hiss ripped through the air as the water boiled away into a superheated vapor and the man simply dissolved in the conflict between the elements.

Wolfram cursed loudly as the fire wielder stepped out of the gate, destroying the one had given the other time to make the transfer between worlds. Behind the man he could see other portals appearing. They had followed him. Because the Esoteric Stones neutralized the wielders’ powers, they were not able to take the men with the stones with them, but Wolfram knew that it might appear that he had made a mistake by escaping from Earth. Now he was on his own with the odds against him. Wolfram’s mind was still shocked at the thought of the enemy following him and the weakness from the Stones was deep in his limbs, but he had no time for that – he had three element wielders to deal with.

One way to win the fight was to intimidate the opponent. And he was good at intimidation, damn good at it. Hell, he intimidated his own husband, the King of Mearan and Ekara.

Wolfram lowered his head, smirking. To show your opponent at the very beginning that he had no chance, no hope to win the fight, served the purpose well enough. He raised his hand into the sky quickly. First, he had to keep the air element busy – the man had to be carefully avoided while he dealt with the two fire-wielders. To deal with the same element was going to be easy. He certainly hoped so. 

A huge burst of raw energy soared upwards from all around Wolfram and an enormous dragon started forming high above his head. At first there were only contours marked by leaping, dancing flames, then the fire surged inside, filling and stretching the shape rapidly.

Wolfram ducked a flash of lightening and threw a fireball at the air wielder. That did not do much damage, though, as the wielder blocked the ball with a swish of an air-stream. Wolfram lowered his right arm then. He had created the dragon in mere seconds, but it still was slower that he usually did during his training, not to mention the process had almost made him violently ill. Any other time the bastards would have not managed to so much as blink to say nothing of attacking him. The affect of the stones was difficult to handle.

The wielders did not seem to be that frightened, though. Wolfram felt a smile tugging at his lips. Well, Yuuri was a wimp after all. With a light flick of his wrist, the prince sent the dragon after the air wielder, while he himself concentrated on the fire wielders. One of them had already created a few fire lions, the other was already throwing a ball of fire at him. Certain that his control over the element was superior, Wolfram simply blocked it with his arm and, as they met, the incoming fireball simply dissolved while being absorbed by his own element, replenishing his energy.

Wolfram stood still while waiting for their next move. He could hear the dragon roaring and the sounds of elements clashing farther on his left. His creation was keeping the air wielder busy, although it should have killed him instantly. That was quite bothersome, the power of the wielders. The men were obviously ordered not to kill him. He had noticed that soon into the attack. However, the men had not exactly known how far they would be able to push him before dealing the deadly blow. Now they knew, though. Not that he complained. If they were ordered not to kill him, now he could push them to extremes.

The fire lions sped to Wolfram, and he created six of his own to counterattack. Roars and growls filled the air when the flaming creatures collided then rolled over the grass seeking to do as much damage as possible, tearing each other apart in a fury of mutual destruction. Wolfram watched how three of his lions sped past the tearing bodies of their comrades and enemies and, with a few long-streaked prances, almost reached the fire wielder. One of the lions scattered into millions of flares as it was struck by a huge fireball, but the other two smashed into the fire wielder. The man, with his throat torn open and flames eating at his body, sagged into the burning grass.

The remaining fire wielder had meanwhile created one huge lion to defend him. Wolfram turned aside as a loud shriek came from his left. From the corner of his eye, he was just in time to see the air wielder being engulfed by the flames spat out by his dragon. 

Three down, one to go.

The prince concentrated back on the problem at hand. One of his remaining lions was already dispersed, but the other taunted the larger lion, luring it forward and making the enemy chase him down through the field. Wolfram could feel his fire dragon approaching, a burning wind rising at the powerful lashes of the huge wings. This was amusing. Now, when the enemy had no Esoteric Stones…had they really expected to take him down? He was one of the best fire wielders on the planet, a trained soldier and strategist. That and Yuuri’s share of power that was coursing through him made him almost invincible. 

Wolfram stiffened suddenly as he felt a light tingling in his body. He grinned widely. His husband was here. 

Not waiting for the effective but slow dragon to catch up to him, Wolfram summoned the water element. A huge wave rose from the lake and sloshed over the fire wielder, drowning him and the struggling lions. The hiss at the impact echoed all over the valley, the steam rising. Wolfram let the man choke for a while, then let the water drop and flow away. The unconscious man slumped to the ground. One for the interrogation. 

“Wolfram!”

Wolfram turned to his husband. Didn't it just figure? Just as he finishes the hard work, his powerful husband arrives. Wolfram sighed. He swallowed down the bile in his throat as the wave of sickness shook his body.

“Are you alright?!” Yuuri shouted, running over to Wolfram.

Wolfram flopped down onto the grass none too gracefully. “Of course, I’m alright.” He was tired as hell, his head was killing him, and he was so nauseous that he was certain that he would never want to eat anything ever again, but he was alive and kicking. Wolfram closed his eyes for a few seconds.

Yuuri squatted down and grabbed the blond by his shoulders to take a look at Wolfram’s face. He was relieved after assuring himself that his husband was indeed fine. The prince did not look that well, but that was nothing vital.

“Thank gods,” Yuuri exhaled as emerald eyes, a bit bleary but lively, met his. He pressed his forehead to Wolfram’s. “That scared me shitless- 

“Eeeehr!” Yuuri shouted in surprise as Wolfram suddenly shoved him away with such strength that he actually rose into the air and hit the ground two meters away from the blond who had thrown himself backwards, rolling and coming up on one knee.

Yuuri’s water element reached the target first, piercing the hostile fire wielder with hundreds of icicles. Only then the body was engulfed by a powerful blast of fire. The deafening noise made by the sudden collision of ice and fire made Wolfram cover his ears with his palms.

From the place where he was kneeling down, Wolfram looked past a smoking hole in the ground where just seconds before they had been talking. Through the rising smoke he saw Yuuri who lay where he had fallen and still had his hand raised, staring at the remains of the fire wielder who had been turned into a pile of muddy ash. “Congratulations,” Wolfram said. “We just killed our source of information. Twice.”

Yuuri blinked, then turned to look at his husband. “Well, he shouldn’t have tried that.”

TBC


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **Faraya** : He is a former ruler of Ekara (the planet of fire element). Faraya looks over forty years old and has the same dark looks like all local people on Ekara – dark-shaded skin, black hair and eyes. The man’s face has regular features, some of the black hair covers his high forehead and is cut in a similar manner as Wolfram’s only a little shorter. His quite full lips are usually pressed together in a content smile. As most men on Ekara, Faraya doesn’t wear moustache either. Besides having a big-boned build, the man is built heavily, his body quite muscular. Faraya has big eyes whose dark penetrating look, while “pleasantly staying on Ekara”, Wolfram found disturbingly alluring.   
>  Now a short recollection of events in WoftGE that have something to do with Faraya: In order to save people from a fire in Shin Makoku, Yuuri opened the gate which accidentally overlapped with the one opened on Ekara thus traveling to Ekara. Wolfram, following his husband, also summoned the gate. He, Kyota, Asami and Arachi (an elite guard) spent two months on Ekara while looking for Yuuri. After unfortunate series of events, Wolfram ended up in Faraya’s harem. Using latosa drug, Faraya bedded Wolfram while Wolfram’s drugged mind mistook Faraya for Yuuri. In the end, Wolfram and Amae (a concubine that Wolfram met in the harem) escaped the harem and after a few adventures left the planet. Faraya was defeated by Yuuri and was taken to Shin Makoku as a prisoner. Ashamed of his weakness and in fear of harming his marriage, Wolfram decided to keep silent about what had happened to him on Ekara. To the prince’s relief and at the same time disturbance, by opening a gate, Faraya managed to escape from Shin Makoku while taking a willing Amae together with him. Yuuri overtook Ekara and currently is the ruler of both Ekara and Mearan (the world where Shin Makoku is). At present, there’s no knowledge as to where Faraya or Amae is. Nobody has seen or heard about them for over ten years already.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 4

Exhausted, Wolfram fell back on the grass, arching his back as he stretched the tension out of his muscles, then relaxing with a sigh. All of his joints were aching and he still was nauseated. It felt as if he were having an intense fit of flu. To soothe it, Wolfram rolled to his side to press his feverish forehead to the cool grass.

The horrendous noise of the battle was over, and the lake side was again calm. The birds and insects summoned their courage and began their peeping and chirruping. The blond raised his head to look at Yuuri. His husband was sitting on the grass with his knees drawn up and his gaze directed somewhere above the charred and muddy remains of the last attacker. He was doing some serious thinking.

Wolfram lowered his head back to the grass. “Did you get those bastards with the stones?”

Yuuri was startled out of his thoughts and turned around to give him a blank look. “Huh?”

“There were four people in the square who attacked me with Esoteric Stones,” Wolfram explained. “I left one lying on the pavement. None of them was able to wield the magic of the stones, though. They just expected to dampen my power with them.”

Yuuri thought for a moment, then shook his head. “After feeling you use my elements, I ran out of the bathroom, took a look around and saw the bags scattered and the tiles in the square broken. I didn’t really pay attention to the gathering people, I just followed your trail immediately.”

Wolfram nodded. The time paradox while traveling between the worlds had come into play again, making Yuuri appear much later than when he had stepped into the gate. “Go look around. Maybe you’ll find something. Be careful, though.”

Yuuri stood up. “And you?” he asked while dusting off his jeans.

“I’m too tired to move. I’ll be fine.” Rolling to his back, Wolfram pointed at the fire dragon hovering above them. “It will keep them busy if they show up.”

Yuuri did not seem to be convinced. “It would be better if you went with me.”

Wolfram shifted on the grass, groaning. “Yuuri, one more stone and all they will need to do is just lift me off the ground and carry me away.”

Yuuri frowned. “Then I will take you to the Castle.”

With a nod, Wolfram gave in. It was a sensible suggestion after all. There were plenty of Humans and half-bloods living next to Mazoku in and around the castle. Those people would be able to deal with the attackers.

Wolfram sat up. He took Yuuri’s hand then was pulled to his feet.

“What about that?” Yuuri pointed at the dragon above them.

“It will follow my trail. I’ll instruct the guards not to touch it – it might be useful in case anyone really tries to attack the Castle.”

Yuuri nodded and the two of them disappeared in a swirl of water.

“Instruct the guards and lay down to rest,” Yuuri told Wolfram when they reappeared in their chambers. “I’ll be back soon,” he said before disappearing in a column of water again.

Wolfram walked over and opened the door to the hallway. There was no one behind it, of course. There were few valuable things in their chambers, but any thief would be caught immediately, so there was no need to guard the chambers while they were absent. After walking down the corridor a short distance, he saw a guard at the stairs that lead to the floor below. The guard drew up and saluted him as soon as he saw the prince. 

“Your Highness!”

With a heavy exhalation, Wolfram leaned his weighty body on the rails. “At ease. Half an hour or so from now a Fire Dragon should reach the Castle. Don’t touch it. Just let it hover. Inform your superiors.”

“Yes, sir!” the guard drew up and saluted again, then bowed and ran downstairs.

Wolfram went back into the Royal Chambers, kicked his trainers off and sprawled on the bed. He managed to rest calmly for five whole minutes before Gwendal and Gunter burst into the room. Wolfram turned on his side, propping his head on his bent arm and hand to look at the men.

“Hello.”

Taking in his brother’s pale visage and not liking that ghostly color at all, Gwendal answered the greeting. In a few strides he was at the side of the bed. He stopped, looking down expectantly.

“Well?”

Wolfram grinned up at him. “Not “well?” but “Would you, please, give the details of the current situation, Your Highness?”

Gwendal’s eyes narrowed. “I have no time for that, Your Highness,” he stressed the title, snorting. “Marrying the King did not change your blood, little brother.”

Gunter patted Gwendal on his arm to calm him down. As usual, the general could not understand a simple joke. Not that Wolfram had ever joked like that with Gwendal before. A little worried, Gunter swept his eyes over the younger prince.

Laughing at Gwendal’s sullen expression, Wolfram rolled over on his back.

“What is that Flame Dragon doing above the castle?” Gwendal demanded.

“It’s already here?’ Wolfram asked, surprised. “Hmm… That was fast.”

Frowning, Gwendal stared at the blond, then leaned down to press his palm to Wolfram’s forehead. “You are feverish,” he said, removing his hand. “What happened?”

Wolfram closed his eyes, yawning. “I was attacked on Earth. There were five element wielders and four humans that had Esoteric Stones. I opened the gate to Shin Makoku, but all of the wielders followed me. Anyway, they are dead, and Yuuri went back to Earth to look for those humans with the stones.”

“Any threat to Shin Makoku?” Gwendal asked.

Wolfram shrugged. “We don't know yet.”

Gwendal nodded. “So that’s why you have the dragon here.” He turned to Gunter. “Instruct someone to call Gisela; he doesn’t seem his usual self. I will order the guards to standby.”

Gunter nodded, “Right away.” His lavender hair flying in the air, Gunter turned around and hurried out of the room.

Gwendal watched his brother who seemed to be sinking into slumber. Esoteric Stones had various effects on Mazoku. Wolfram was one of the most powerful wielders in the whole of Mearan but that came with a heavy price - any contact with Esoteric Stones left Wolfram dizzy and hardly able to fight back. Gwendal wondered how it really had gone today, but that was going to have to wait until his brother slept the effects off. Talking to a half-sensible Wolfram was of no use.

XXXXX

Yuuri’s head turned from side to the side as soon as he stepped out of the portal. He was relieved to see Wolfram sprawled on their bed. Traces of emerald were seen from the blond’s half-lidded eyes which were watching Yuuri. The blond was dressed in light sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. He was lying on the bed, on top of the covers with a pillow taken out from under them. It was pleasantly warm in the room.

“Well, found anything?” Wolfram asked after his husband had come closer.

Yuuri shook his head. “But here,” he lifted the bags for Wolfram to get a better view. “Everything’s untouched.” He grinned.

Shifting on the bed lazily, Wolfram chuckled. “Pervert. Only care about your handcuffs, don’t you?”

Yuuri plopped down next to him. The king-sized bed bounced, then dipped under the king’s weight. “Well, want to have a snack?” Yuuri asked, pulling a wrapped up hamburger from one of the bags.

Wolfram laughed, shrugging. “Sure.” He sat up, then held his hand out to take the hamburger from Yuuri.

Yuuri watched the blond unwrapping the hamburger. The king raised his hand to affectionately ruffle the rich blond hair. “Are you okay, babe?” 

Wolfram nodded, chuckling softly at the name. “Yeah, I had a good nap. I’m still somewhat out of it, but it’s much better.” He lifted his hamburger. “See – I’m eating.”

Yuuri nodded. “Sorry for taking so long, but I had to inform Shori about the trouble,” he said, pulling his hand out of the blond locks. “By the way, he did not know anything. Any idea who they were?” he asked. Wolfram held his hamburger out for him, and Yuuri leaned down to take a bite of it.

Wolfram brushed over the cover with his hand to get the crumbs off it, then shifted closer to the edge of the bed, not to get more crumbs on it. He let his legs dangle off the bed. “Four of them used the fire element to open the gates,” he said.

Yuuri stopped chewing for a second. “You think Faraya might have something to do with this?”

Wolfram took a bite of his hamburger, then shrugged. “Who knows?” he mouthed. “This could also be a set up for us to think it was him. Someone from Shin Makoku could have done it,” he muttered darkly. “Their hair was black but it was probably dyed. They didn't have the dark eyes of the locals either but that might have been lenses. I didn't fight any of them in hand-to-hand combat, so I can’t say anything about their physical strength.”

Wolfram looked at his husband, “Yuuri, I was the target. They said nothing but it was obvious that they had been ordered to capture me alive. I wonder what the motive was.”

Yuuri stared at the floor between his legs for a few seconds, then continued chewing. He swallowed. “There are not many people who can open the gates…and four of them were using fire element.”

Wolfram held his hamburger out for Yuuri again, but his husband pushed it away and reached into the bag to take out his. 

“As I said, it could only be to fool us,” Wolfram said. He watched Yuuri unwrapping his hamburger. “Send some of our people over to Svelera to investigate suspicious people buying Esoteric Stones.” 

Yuuri nodded. “But I doubt we’ll get anything from that – everyone who buys them is suspicious.”

“That’s why I’ve been telling you to look into their mining and the market for them in the damn county.”

Yuuri did not answer. Wolfram was right, of course. “We will have to take precautions,” Yuuri said to him. “Your escort will be doubled. Do not leave the castle without notifying me or Gwendal first.”

Wolfram nodded absentmindedly. “So the holidays are over, huh?” he muttered. 

The prince finished his hamburger, then licked the crumbs off his fingers. He flopped back onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling for some time, he could feel his eyelids were gradually becoming heavier and heavier.

“Rest now,” Yuuri said after seeing that his husband was fading. “Do you want me to wake you up for dinner?”

Wolfram turned over onto his left side and snuggled into the pillow. “Can you get me some water?”

“Sure.” Yuuri stood up from the bed and moved to the door where one of the stationed guards took his order.

“Did Gisela examine you?” Yuuri asked, after coming back to the bed.

Wolfram nodded. “Yeah. She said it should pass in a few days.” He sighed. “I think I did or said something weird to Gwendal.”

Interested, Yuuri sat down on the bed again. “What makes you think so?”

“He’s requested me to hand him a written report about what happened.”

“Huh? But you always do that anyway.”

Wolfram shook his head, chuckling. “No, it was the way he requested it. He was extremely polite. He almost scared me.”

Yuuri waited for more of an explanation, but got none, and Wolfram was close to dozing off again. He shrugged. “So what about the dinner?”

Wolfram yawned, then opened his eyes to look at him. “I’ll pass.”

“Alright, I’ll tell the others.”

XXXXX

“Your Highness, Sir Rivu is asking for an audience.”

Not raising his head from the letter he was writing, Wolfram nodded. “Let him in.”

“Hey, how are you?”

From the desk where he was sitting, Wolfram turned around to look at Asami, who had just entered the chamber. He put his pen down. 

“Hello.” Wolfram slid out of the chair. “Yuuri said nothing about you visiting,” he said while approaching Asami.

“Well, I heard about the attack and wanted to make sure you were okay. Besides,” Asami grinned. “I wanted to go fishing. Yuuri has a visit from someone important and he told me to go pester you about it; he said he would join us after he was done with his guest. It seems he thinks that you also need to rest…”

“Ah. He worries needlessly,” Wolfram chuckled. Asami sometimes came over for relaxing. Because of the time paradox he was able to save up some time on Earth. “I’m fine. It has already been a week and I feel absolutely fine.” He shrugged. “Well, we could go now and be back for dinner.”

Asami nodded. “Sounds fine. Or are you also busy?”

Wolfram smiled. He was always busy, just like Yuuri. But the day outside was bright and warm, and if Yuuri was giving him an opportunity to escape his work for a few hours, he was going to use it to the full extent. “I’ll just finish the letter.”

Fifteen minutes later Wolfram and Asami were ready, out in the court yard, sitting on horses surrounded by fifteen guards. Baffled, Asami turned his head from one side to the other to take the guards in.

“Are we going on maneuvers or something?” he drawled.

“We know nothing for sure, but my escort has been doubled after the attempt and you also get five guards of your own,” Wolfram explained.

Slowly, Asami turned his head to look at Wolfram. The blond grinned at him. “Don’t worry, we’ll have a great time.”

This time Wolfram chose a different lake to go to. It was farther from the one where he and Yuuri had fought the unknown element wielders, but the prince considered it safer for the time being. It took about forty minutes to get there, and by that time Wolfram and Asami already were uncertain that had been a good idea to travel under the hot sun. It was late afternoon, but the air was still heated, making their shirts stick to their bodies. 

The guards laid out a blanket under a tree near the water as soon as Asami and Wolfram climbed off their horses. The first thing they did was to shed their clothes and get into the water. About fifteen minutes of splashing and swimming around they returned to the shore. Flopping onto the blanket near the food that had been arranged by the guards while the two were swimming, they had a snack, then lay down for a few minutes.

Sighing blissfully, Asami opened his eyes a few minutes later. They widened a little at the stares of the guards. Even though the stares weren’t directed at him, most of the guards turned away, some of their faces pinkish. Asami took a look at the oblivious beauty dozing next to him, then sat up. He leaned against the tree and looked around.

It was no wonder Yuuri was thinking all kinds of things. Wolfram had always been haunted by those stares everywhere he went. They only became more intense after Wolfram had reached manhood. And it was no wonder, those gazes. Asami cast his eyes over Wolfram's body, nude except for the small black undergarment, tied at his sides. The brightly shining and slightly curling blond hair, the pale rose lips, the crescents of dark eyelashes, thin fair eyebrows covered by several loose curls, clean regular features and a strong, toned athletic body; Wolfram was all that and more. The blond looked as if he had just floated down out of some magazine cover.

“Wolfram…”

Lazing in the dappled light and not willing to open his eyes yet, Wolfram shifted on the cover. “Hnn?” he hummed, bending his right leg and drawing it slightly up.

Asami felt his face catch flame. Really, Yuuri was…

Not hearing the awaited answer, Wolfram turned to look at the other. Confused, he blinked at Asami’s reddish face. The man was staring somewhere at the lower part of his body. Asami cleared his throat and turned away, still covered in a light sheen of red.

“Huh?” Puzzled, Wolfram rose up on his elbows and took a good look at himself. “Ah,” he said, his cheeks also turning pinkish. He lowered his leg to hide a row of hickeys on his inner thigh. Usually Yuuri made sure not to leave them in easily visible places but… It was strange that Asami had not noticed them earlier.

“So you really feel fine?” Asami asked softly. 

Asami chose to speak not in Shin Makoku's dialect, and, little confused, Wolfram nodded. “Yes, I’m okay,” he confirmed.

“Hmm…” Asami drawled, turning his head to look at Wolfram. “I see things with Yuuri are also fine?” 

“Asami?”

“Yes?”

“You really didn't come for fishing, did you? Yuuri asked you to talk to me, didn’t he?”

Asami scratched the back of his head. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I didn't think I was that transparent,” Asami added then. “He is…”

“I know what he is,” Wolfram nodded. He sat up and leaned back on his palms. “He thinks that I’m cheating on him.” 

Asami’s eyes widened in shock. So Wolfram knew. And was bold enough to admit it to him. But why not to Yuuri, then? Why was he torturing Yuuri?!

Wolfram shifted over and leaned his back against the tree next to Asami. “He’s easy to read. He’s been so jealous recently… Trying to follow my every step… Ruthless in bed. I did not know he could be like that. It’s a little worrisome for he is on the verge of turning violent.”

“Then why the hell don’t you talk to him?!” Asami bristled. “He has started imagining all kinds of idiotic things!”

Wolfram turned his head away to look at the calm lake. “Maybe they aren’t that idiotic.”

Flabbergasted, Asami stared at him.

Wolfram turned back to look at Asami and sighed at his facial expression. “No, I’m not cheating on him.” He shifted uncomfortably, not sure why he was talking about this with Asami at all. “It’s a different matter that I don’t want to talk about.”

Asami stared at the blond. “Oh.” He smiled then. “Your Highness doesn’t want to talk about it? Is it unpleasant to His Highness? And what the fuck about Yuuri?!” he hissed, his smile turning lethal. “Asshole, do you know how unpleasant it is for him?! He loves you and he’s going crazy! You are tearing him apart!”

“Don’t shout at me; the guards are getting nervous,” Wolfram sighed, motioning for his suite to stand back. “Ahh… I’m glad you are worried about him,” he said while ruffling through his blond hair as if to distract himself. “Thank you for that but...” he fell silent. “Just don’t interfere.” 

From the guards that were watching them with uneasy tension, Asami’s eyes came back to the blond. “What the hell is this about? Why can’t you two just sit down and talk normally?”

“It won’t go that way.” The prince raised his hand as Asami’s mouth opened again. “Don’t tell him a word about this conversation.” 

“I’m not going to lie to him!”

“Nobody is asking you to and there is nothing to lie about,” Wolfram pointed out calmly.

Asami said nothing, but his gaze turned cold. “I don’t understand what you are doing. Your marriage is in danger, and you are talking shit.”

“Let’s just drop this for now.”

Asami snorted at the answer. Wolfram was really a bitch to deal with – Yuuri had not been exaggerating at all. Feeling down and insulted, Asami stared at the lake for a few minutes, then decided to just go look for a good spot to fish and to think it all over. Meanwhile Wolfram got a book out of his saddlebag and stayed under the tree reading. Although an hour later, when he saw Yuuri and his suite entering the valley, he was still on the same page.

Yuuri greeted the guards with several quick nods and went directly to Wolfram, who was lying in the shade on his stomach, trying to read. He raised his head Yuuri’s footsteps neared him. 

“Hey,” Yuuri greeted his husband, sitting down. Reaching out, he cupped Wolfram’s head and leaned in to kiss him. Wolfram answered the short kiss, then shifted and turned over onto his back to get out of the uncomfortable position Yuuri had him in. 

“Want to eat something?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Later. I had a snack before coming here. Where are the rest of the guards?” he asked.

“I sent two of them to hunt.”

Yuuri frowned but said nothing. “You should dress in your shirt,” he said instead, picking up the blond’s white shirt that was lying next to him. He tossed the shirt onto Wolfram. “Your skin burns too easily. You are near water, and shade is deceiving.”

Wolfram pushed the shirt off his chest and sat up. “Yes, mom,” he said, taking the shirt and roughly pulling it on.

“You’ll thank me later,” Yuuri chuckled, throwing his arm over Wolfram’s shoulders and seating him between his outstretched legs. He tugged his husband close to his body, making him lean against his chest then wrapping his arms around the blond’s waist. Observing the water's calm surface, he ruffled the blond hair, then put his chin on top of his husband’s head. With a sigh, Wolfram relaxed and closed his eyes. After several minutes of calmly sitting and simply savoring each other’s closeness, Wolfram squirmed.

“Go for a swim, the water’s really nice.”

“Hmm?” Yuuri purred, nuzzling the blond’s neck. He found himself too lazy and unwilling to move. “Will you join me?” he asked Wolfram.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Asami?”

Wolfram pointed at a spot farther on. “There.”

Yuuri followed the blond’s finger to some bushes where a dangling hat was seen. There were five guards around and in the bushes. He chuckled. “Let’s hope he’ll catch something.”

Wolfram lowered his arm. He said nothing to that. He freed himself from Yuuri’s embrace and stood up. “Let’s go for a swim.”

After swimming and splashing about for half an hour, the two of them came back to the shore. They flopped onto the blanket to dry and have a snack. After that, Yuuri stretched out and sighed blissfully. This was heaven. He turned to watch Wolfram putting his shirt on his already dry body.

“Come here,” Yuuri reached out when the blond was done. 

“So how did it go with the Count?” Wolfram asked, shifting closer to Yuuri who sat up, then pulled him over and seated him between his legs again, leaning his head on the blond’s shoulder.

“Hmm… It went fine. We finally agreed on a sum.”

“How much?”

“Five hundred thousand for every ship. They are going to order at least ten of them. I’m going to talk to our shipwrights. I think it won’t be difficult to make them stop ignoring the country.” He sighed. “Hell, those old disagreements and spats between countries are so ridiculous!”

Wolfram nodded. He leaned his head back on Yuuri’s right shoulder and looked at the leaves of the tree above them. He found Yuuri’s folded hands around his waist and gave them a light squeeze.

“Yuuri?”

“Mm?”

Wolfram stared at the lazily rustling leaves for a few seconds then shook his head. “No, nothing.” He turned around in Yuuri’s embrace to look at him. “I am just glad you came.”

Yuuri watched him silently then leaned in to give him a light peck on the lips. “You know…” he muttered against them. “I want to throw you on your back and rip that shirt of yours off.”

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose. “And then?”

Yuuri grinned at the playfulness in the blond’s voice. “And then I’ll fuck you senseless.”

Wolfram chuckled. “Sure, I’ll let you do that as soon as we are back in the Castle.”

“Aww…you are so easy.”

“Complaining?”

“Dear god, no!” Yuuri laughed, leaning in to kiss his husband again.

“Are you done flirting with each other? Are you two idiots aware that there are at least ten people staring at you right now?” 

Yuuri and Wolfram turned their heads to look at Asami who was standing right next to the blanket. He was holding a bucket filled with water. He put his fishing rod onto the grass, then lowered the bucket to the ground where four average fish could be seen swimming in it.

Asami raised his head to look at the pair again. Yuuri used to be quite shy with expressing his affections. He could hardly believe that Yuuri was the same man who used to go pale at the very thought of Wolfram touching him. At least he heard Shori say that.

“Not very many,” Wolfram commented, after taking a look at the bucket.

Asami snorted. He dropped down next to them and reached out for the food. “My cat will be happy, though.”

“Your Murkis can hardly squeeze through the door into the kitchen. You are torturing the poor animal,” Yuuri said.

“I am not!” Asami protested. “He meows and demands more food if I don’t give him enough.”

“You should bring him to Shin Makoku,” Yuuri said. “A month on a farm, getting only a sprinkle of milk and the hard work of trying to catch mice would whip him back into shape.”

Wolfram sighed. “Listen, there is nothing else to expect from the poor animal after removing his dick. Eating is his last remaining pleasure.”

“It was not removed! He just had a procedure when his…”

Wolfram’s eyebrows rose at Asami meaningfully. “So... he still can’t fuck. And your point is?”

Agitated, Asami looked at Yuuri for help, who just shrugged and gave him a bright grin as if telling his friend that he was not even thinking about interfering. Wolfram was never modest with his comments or language concerning topics like this. Another thing Asami noticed was that Yuuri held his tongue in check near Wolfram. 

After more than an hour of lounging about and idle conversation, the sun started setting and the guards were ordered to start packing. Soon the group headed back for the Castle.

XXXXX

“Why is that when I am with you two I end up drinking?” Asami wondered while swirling the wine in his glass idly. Another thing that bothered him was that Wolfram had never been much of a drinker before. 

Asami shifted in his chair then looked at the pair sitting in front of him on the large sofa with its decorated draping and loose pillows. Yuuri and Wolfram looked at each other and shrugged, but Asami could see a particularly mischievous smile appear on the blond’s face. Ah, the bastard really had something to comment on. It was better to not hear it.

“So... how is it going with Renata?” Yuuri sounded truly interested.

“Ah, we are good,” Asami nodded contentedly. “But this weekend she went to see her grandparents, so I stayed behind. Well, yeah,” he scratched his head sheepishly. “I think it’s still too early for her to introduce me to them.”

“Yeah, probably,” Yuuri agreed. “It's only been a few weeks that you two have known each other.”

Asami sighed. That was true, but why, then did he feel so disappointed? Asami suddenly was conscious of intent emerald eyes studying him. Frowning, he took a sip from his glass. No matter what Yuuri said, between the two of them, Wolfram was more adept in reading emotions.

Asami put the glass onto the table, then excused himself for the bathroom. When he came back he found that the atmosphere in the room had warmed up a notch or two while he was absent. The two hardly noticed him when he took his place in front of them again. Yuuri was in the middle of telling Wolfram about a time when he was on one of his school trips. Asami doubted that Wolfram’s attention was on the story, though. The blond was just staring at Yuuri with a hooded look in his eyes. Asami thought that it was about time to head for his room. He stood up.

“Ok, see you in the morning. Thanks for the company.”

“Huh?” Yuuri gave him a blank look. “Leaving already? But we just started.”

Asami looked at Wolfram, who also gave him a confused look. “Alright,” Asami shrugged, sitting back down into his chair. The two idiots probably weren’t even aware that seconds ago they had been living in a world only for the two of them.

Half an hour later found the three of them laughing their heads off.

“I promise you!” Asami nodded trying to stifle his laughter. “Yuuri and I had to get back into the camp while covering our goods only with a few branches!”

“Yeah, I still can’t figure out who filched our clothes,” Yuuri laughed. “Hell, it wasn't funny at all then.”

“Uh-huh!” Asami nodded enthusiastically. “We were so afraid meeting someone on our way that we stuck around in the bushes near the lake until it got dark! The mosquitoes were damn vicious that summer.”

“That’s nothing,” Wolfram waved their story off. “You should’ve seen how the Castle looked after Anissina invented The Machine for Sewing Clothes. Needless to say there was some glitch.” He covered his mouth, but burst out laughing anyway. “There were about a hundred naked people running all around the castle.” He took a gulp of his wine, then continued, “Hell, one moment I was calmly standing in the hallway, then that freak of a device appears before me and the next thing I know is I’m naked!”

“Hahahaha!” Yuuri roared. “I wish I could’ve seen all of that!”

“Hilarious!” Asami shrieked with laughter.

“Well, at least it exploded nicely,” Wolfram said with pride.

Yuuri burst out laughing again.

“You know, she wanted to have me punished for destroying that piece of crap,” Wolfram remarked. “Something about one day without going outside or something, but Gwendal said, that in that case, he would give me permission to set her laboratory on fire. Ah, sometimes I really love my older brother,” Wolfram said dreamily.

Yuuri grinned at him drunkenly. In the back of his mind his conversation about promising to get the shirt off Wolfram and then fuck him senseless drifted up. This seemed to be a quite nice opportunity.

Asami cleared his throat and stood up. Yuuri’s lips retreated from the blond’s and his hooded eyes set on Asami. “Oh. Asami. You're still here?” he asked, confused.

Asami chuckled. “It seems so. You always seem to forget the audience when Wolfram is around.”

“Hm?” Yuuri blinked. “Really?”

“I don’t mind. I like being watched,” Wolfram purred.

Asami stared at him wide-eyed. Wolfram grinned mischievously. The tip of the prince’s tongue slid over his upper lip seductively. Then his attention went to Yuuri again.

“So where did we stop?”

“Hmm…” Yuuri drawled. “I suppose somewhere here,” he said before leaning in. Lips met and joined, watery smacking sounds filling the scenery. Asami frowned at them. Seriously, this was too much.

“So, who will be the bitch?” Wolfram asked.

Asami choked on his saliva. Coughing violently, his eyes watering, he threw a glance at Wolfram in disbelief.

“C’mon,” Yuuri pouted, “you did me the previous time.”

“But two times before it was me who…”

“Would you mind?!” Asami coughed out.

Wolfram looked at the glass of wine in Asami’s hand. “No, go ahead.”

“Wolfram, it’s not fair!” Yuuri whined with a drunken conviction.

Asami put down his glass and started walking to the door. There was no way he was going to ever drink with them again. He opened the door.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

“Ah, goddamit!”

Slowly turning around from the doorway, Asami blinked. It was really that what he thought it was. Yuuri was holding paper, and Wolfram scissors.

Wolfram smirked at Yuuri.

Asami stared at them. The two must be getting senile. Asami shook his head and closed the door behind him. Unreal...the two were married and were still getting more sex than he ever did! Life was just not fair! Slapping himself on the forehead for the stupid thoughts, Asami turned toward the guest rooms.

“I think we overdid it,” Yuuri said as soon as the door closed. He fell back onto the sofa, grinning and folding his hands behind his head. “But that was fun.”

“Yeah, his face!” Wolfram laughed drunkenly.

Yuuri grinned at him. He reached out for the blond’s waist and tugged, making Wolfram fall on his back next to him, the sofa's decorative sheeting slipping down to puddle on the seat. “I think we need to move it to our bedroom,” he said before leaning in to kiss the blond. A sloppy kiss issued, and Yuuri forgot about moving somewhere else.

His lips moving against the blond’s, Yuuri’s fingers started fumbling with the buttons of Wolfram’s shirt. His patience with the disobedient things wearing thin, Yuuri started tugging at them.

“You’ll tear it!” Wolfram protested, pushing Yuuri’s hands away.

“I’ll give you a new one,” Yuuri offered while eagerly watching his husband fighting with the buttons.

“You are drunk.”

“You are not that sober either,” Yuuri pointed out. 

The shirt finally parted, and Yuuri’s palms slid over Wolfram’s bare stomach then up and over the ribcage, caressing the pale skin. Wolfram purred, arching into the touch. His eyes fell shut as his husband's lips pressed to his skin and started trailing up until they reached his right nipple.

“Ohh.”

Yuuri’s mouth toyed with the nub for a few seconds, then moved up until it reached the blond’s shoulders. Nipping lightly on the fair skin, he stroked the blond’s side, then pushed his hand into Wolfram’s trousers. That rewarded him with another moan spilling past the blond’s lips. Fondling the growing hardness he found there, Yuuri's teeth grazed the collarbone before him, then, latching on, he sucked on the warm skin.

“You are going to leave marks again.” 

The complaint was uttered in a breathless voice which had a completely opposite effect on Yuuri than intended. Wanting to hear more of that voice, the dark-haired male gave a firm squeeze to the contents of the blond’s trousers.

“Uhmm… The ones you left earlier,” Wolfram gasped out. “They embarrassed Asami.”

Yuuri sucked even harder, this time to be sure to leave a mark. Pulling his hand out of the blond’s trousers, he raised his head. “Idiot. Don’t talk about other men while we are having sex!”

Wolfram laughed at him and lifted his arms up to wrap them around Yuuri’s neck. He grinned up at Yuuri. “I like it when you are jealous.”

Yuuri snorted at his drunken husband and started unbuttoning the blond’s trousers. Wolfram had a brain of a chicken when drunk. Although Yuuri was sure that right now he was not faring any better.

“Sure you do,” Yuuri muttered before claiming the insolent mouth with his to shut it up.

Between the kisses and caresses, Yuuri got their trousers off and the two of them meshed into a feverish mass of limbs. It was going to be short and quick today, both of them being drunk and already at their limit. 

Wolfram grunted as he felt Yuuri pressing on his side, indicating that he wanted Wolfram to turn over on his stomach. Rolling him over, Yuuri pressed himself to the naked body underneath his. Rubbing himself against the blond’s crease, Yuuri’s teeth grazed the shoulder blades in front of his face. Wanting it as soon as possible, he pushed his hand under the blond’s stomach to make him lift his hips.

There was something about Wolfram and this position. He obviously liked the pose very much, but from time to time something gave Yuuri the feeling that Wolfram occasionally wanted reassurance that it was really him. Hearing his voice whispering various things usually helped. Yuuri had no idea when or why this trait had developed, but it appeared some time ago, and although it was very easy to deal with, it still was somewhat disturbing. 

Yuuri’s body rose off the blond’s a little as he reached into the drawer in the table at the end of the sofa. He opened it, and his fingers started fumbling inside of it blindly. There must be a tube of lube somewhere, he was sure of that.

“Yuuri,” Wolfram moaned, raising his ass to rub against Yuuri’s hard front.

Licking his lips in desperation, Yuuri turned to look at him. “Wait, can’t find the damn thing.” He startled as something cold touched his wrist and there were two quick metallic clicks. “Huh?” Confused, Yuuri turned back to look at the drawer. He blinked at his hand in drunken disbelief. His wrist was cuffed to the handle of the drawer. He tugged at it, pulling the drawer open as he pulled back on his hand. How the hell had that happened?

“Yuuri, it seems you forgot whose turn it is now…” Wolfram purred while rolling out from under his husband, to stand next to the sofa. “I won fair and square.”

Yuuri turned to the blond, giving him an incredulous look. “I can just pull the drawer out,” he said.

Wolfram’s lusty smile turned dangerous, daring him do that, and Yuuri wondered how Wolfram managed to be intimidating while naked, aroused and drunk out of his head. Yuuri let his arm droop. To tell the truth, he was quite excited at the new turn of events. “Alright,” he puffed out relaxing. “I won’t. But it’s uncomfortable like this; my arm is cramping.”

The small end table was quite light and soon Wolfram had it pulled away from the wall. Now Yuuri was lying slantwise on the sofa. He blinked at the carpet while feeling Wolfram’s slippery fingers groping around his anus. So much for foreplay… Yuuri’s mouth fell open when they pressed forward. After a few in and out motions that left him panting and craving more, Yuuri felt hands digging into his sides and waist.

Wolfram forced Yuuri’s legs wider and pressed himself forward, slipping into the tight heat. Yuuri let out a shuddery breath. A few seconds later he raised his hips higher to get them into a more comfortable position. It took only a few thrusts and the two of them were huffing and grunting, lost in pleasure, moving together fervently, flesh slapping against flesh.

The intensity of lust was growing rapidly and soon Yuuri felt that it did not have enough space in his lower body. He was close to his climax, his body burning, backside rising higher to get everything that Wolfram’s thrusts had to offer. He gasped in shock as Wolfram’s teeth clamped down on his shoulder dangerously, nearly breaking the skin. Wolfram’s low possessive growl reached his ears, then the blond’s palm pressed onto his upper back and shoved him down into the sofa pillows, holding him there forcefully. His other hand dove into Yuuri’s hair to grip and pull at it roughly to state his dominance. Yuuri groaned at the feel of Wolfram’s teeth on his skin again. His fingers gripped at the loose sheeting, toes curling. Through the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears, he could hear Wolfram’s grunts and the unceasing clinking of the handcuffs against the drawer. It took only a few fierce thrusts and Yuuri came. Wolfram pulled out of him and after a few mindless jerks on his shaft, followed Yuuri seconds later, releasing on his husband’s back.

Panting, the blond sagged onto Yuuri. Sated and exhausted, Wolfram rolled off his husband. “G’night,” he mumbled. 

“Mmmhmghm,” Yuuri burbled in response.

The blond shifted lazily while looking around for covers, but just made a mess on the sofa, and ended up entangled in the decorated sheet that they had dislodged earlier. Trying to get free, he struggled sluggishly, then his thoughts faded as sleep took over his body and the kittenish movements ceased. Scant seconds later he fell asleep like that, wrapped in the covers as if in a tight cocoon.

Yuuri’s sleepy eyes blinked at the blond head next to him. A fleeting thought that he had to do something about that drawer cuffed to his wrist passed through Yuuri’s mind but it melted away before he could think about what to do, and he followed his husband into sleep.

TBC


	5. Part 5

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 5

Yuuri started as a flash of lightning lit his face. Instinctively, he tried to lift his arm to shield his eyes against the glow, but something was wrong. It appeared to be stuck somewhere. The room lit up again.

“Hn?”

Yuuri tentatively moved his arm again then jerked on the sofa as the sound caught up with the light. He raised his head to look around the room. This was his and Wolfram’s chambers, one of the rooms. He was lying on a sofa. Yuuri turned his head to look at a small table, then to the drawer which his wrist was cuffed to. He started remembering.

Yuuri observed a lump lying next to him. Wolfram looked like the cocoon of a bearbee. It seemed he was still asleep. Wincing at the lingering soreness in his lower regions, Yuuri sat up. The room smelled of sex and sperm. He raised his left hand to rub his face then ruffled through his tousled hair. Yesterday Wolfram had gone at it as if there were no tomorrow.

Another flash of light lit up the room, then the wave of sound rolled over, shaking the windows. Wolfram shifted slightly but did not wake up. Yuuri looked out of a window. Over the turrets that were blocking most of his view, he could see dark coiling clouds rolling through the sky. It was hard to tell what time of day it was. He turned to look at a grandfather clock against the opposite wall. Already seven in the morning and it was still so dark.

So it’s that time of the season again, Yuuri thought. Soon the wind would pick up and it would start raining. It would last for about half an hour then it would be over and the sun would come out again. The middle of the summer in Shin Makoku was always like this, the weather drastically changing a few times a day.

Yuuri turned away from the windows and reached for the drawer, pulling it out. Holding it in his hands so as not to spill the contents, he got up from the sofa. Yuuri started looking around for his husband’s clothes, expecting to find the handcuff key there. Retrieving Wolfram's blue trousers from the floor, he checked the pockets, dropping them next to the blond as the key wasn't there. Yuuri walked over to Wolfram’s side and lifted one of the pillows that were scattered all over the sofa. Ah, found it.

Yuuri unlocked the cuffs then pushed the drawer back into place and moved the small end table back to its original place. His memory did not reach far, but it was really fun yesterday. And felt good, too.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri turned around at the sleepy voice. “Ah, did I wake you up?”

Wolfram shifted on the sofa then settled and then moved again.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“Help?” Wolfram asked while squirming in the roll of the cover, not managing to get free.

Yuuri grinned. He suddenly pounced onto Wolfram while wrapping his arms around the blond’s swaddled sides. “So this is where my helpless kitty is! Meow for me, kitty.”

Wolfram blinked up at Yuuri. “Meow. Now help me.”

Yuuri burst out laughing then leaned in to give his husband's lips a quick peck. He raised his head to give the blond a bright grin. “You only need a ribbon and you’d seem like a present all wrapped up nicely.” Wolfram moved about again in the cover, and Yuuri’s grin brightened as his nose caught a whiff of air. That sheet badly needed washing - Wolfram had practically wrapped himself into his dried sperm. 

Wolfram squirmed helplessly again. “Listen, will I have to be meowing for the rest of the day to get any help here?” To his best knowledge a cat did not meow but baaa-ed, but if Yuuri insisted… 

“Nah, but some moaning would be nice.”

“I thought I was to be a cat?” Wolfram mumbled, trying to get free on his own as it was obvious that his husband was enjoying the opportunity to make fun of him.

Yuuri leaned in to whisper into the blond’s ear, “I would not be able to do this with a cat.” He trailed his hand over the cover to squeeze Wolfram’s nether regions. “Would I?”

Wolfram’s lower lip got caught between his teeth, his hips rising instinctively at the rubbing. “Yuuri, I have a horrible headache and I don’t feel that well. I suggest you help me out of this stupid cover or I’ll soon throw up all over the sofa.”

Yuuri let go and straightened over from the blond, his mood spoiled. “Damn, I hate it when you drink.”

“You weren't complaining yesterday.”

“But I am today.”

Wolfram gave his husband a look telling him that it was the time to stop or they would get into a spat. Yuuri sighed. He helped Wolfram to get free out of the messed cover. His husband’s recent indulgence in alcohol was making him quite worried. It was also making him even more suspicious, as Wolfram had never liked drinking that much. In addition, his body did not handle alcohol well.

Yuuri watched his husband staggering away from the sofa and putting his clothes on in clumsy movements. Wolfram ruffled through his messy hair while summoning water element to create a healing spell.

“Need help?”

“Nah. I’ll just go to the baths then try to find something to cure my headache and will be present at the meeting.”

“Don’t overdo. I don’t want you throwing up in front of the council.” 

As Wolfram said nothing to that, Yuuri went to the wardrobe to look for a change of clothes. He and Wolfram left for the baths a few minutes later.

XXXXX

It was evening already, and Yuuri was sitting on the bench in the garden on the right side of the living quarters of the Castle. It was not a big garden in comparison to the gardens that Yuuri had seen but it still took quite some manpower. There already were five gardeners taking care of it. One of whom he could hear Wolfram speaking to right now. Yuuri could not see them behind the lilac bushes nor he could hear what they were talking about; but as the tones were quite light and it was a woman, it did not seem it was something he should get worried about.

Yuuri was not sure what to think about his suspicions about Wolfram. Asami had promised to try and talk to Wolfram to pry something out. But then Asami just left without saying a word to him about the results of his attempt. Was it because Asami didn’t have a chance to talk to his husband or was it because he had and got a hold of some information he was reluctant to tell him? Nonsense, Wolfram would not play around like that.

Huffing, Yuuri stood up. This had become ridiculous, not being able to communicate with his own husband.

Yuuri heard the sound of approaching steps and turned around to see Conrad coming toward him from the other side of the garden. His godfather waved at him.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed after coming up. 

Yuuri groaned. “Oh for god’s sake, will you drop that at least when we're alone?”

Conrad just smiled at his king warmly. “Anissina said she has invented A-Device-for-an-Easy-Horseshoeing. She wants Your Majesty to take a look at it. She seems very proud of it.”

Yuuri sighed. “Just tell me that there were no victims this time?”

“Nope, there weren’t. Well, except for Gwendal's feet being swollen.”

Yuuri groaned. “Why don’t they finally marry? Why doesn’t Gwendal marry her and take her somewhere far, far away?”

Conrad grinned at him. “I think with Anissina it would be a bit problematic… Probably it would be Gwendal who would be taken somewhere far, far away.”

Yuuri sighed, “Either way is fine.” 

“Well?”

It had been a long day. Trying to think of how to avoid the pressing invitation, Yuuri rubbed his neck. He rolled his head to get the muscles to relax. “Alright, let’s go to see that divine scourge.” He started out in a slow pace along the path.

“I hope Your Majesty did not mean Anissina?”

“Nope, it was for the device. Anissina falls into a category of banes.”

Conrad chuckled. “In any case, I hope Your Majesty will be ready to run.”

“Oh, I’m always ready for that when I’m in a room with her. Tell me,” Yuuri clucked his tongue, “as for loving cute things, Gwendal’s attachment to Anissina seems more than a tad out of context.”

“Well, all of us have a whit of inclination towards masochism and…”

“Gah!” Yuuri held up his hand in front of Conrad’s mouth. “I really don’t want to hear the rest.”

Conrad shrugged.

Yuuri stopped as they passed the lilac bushes and a clearing opened up before them. He could see Wolfram sitting on a bench with a woman and chatting away. It disturbed him was that there were no guards with them. And there was no way she could be a gardener. Judging by the woman’s clothes, she was a very rich aristocrat. Yuuri moved forward again while pointing at the woman.

“Who is she and what business does she have with von Bielefelds?”

Conrad took a look at the woman. “Oh, she’s one of the women Wolfram is choosing from. Lady Emilia Liafor.”

Turning into another path leading toward the entrance to the Castle, Yuuri blinked slowly. “Huh? Choosing for what?”

“For bearing his heir, of course,” Conrad answered softly. “Maybe it’s not my place for speaking up – I know it’s really hard for Your Majesty to hear and I won’t bring up it again, but I am very impressed. I’m glad You understand and support Wolfram.”

By the time Conrad finished speaking, Yuuri had stopped walking and now was standing in the middle of the path, staring at Conrad’s back. Conrad had said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Yuuri hadn’t understood a thing. No, he had understood, he just hoped that he had not.

“Your Majesty…?”

“What agreement was that, once again?”

Yuuri’s voice was low and dangerous, his facial expression not promising anything good. Conrad’s eyes widened as a slow realization came to him. “Your Majesty, You mean you didn’t…?”

In a second Yuuri was in front of him with his fists clenched, his whole frame trembling. “Like hell I’d sign something like that!” he hissed at Conrad’s face. 

“But…” Conrad stuttered, “there is Your signature underneath the…”

“Fuck it!” Yuuri yelled with all the might he had, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence. “I’ve never, ever signed something like that! When did the bastard make me sign it?!”

Startled and worried, Conrad was left standing, as suddenly, Yuuri turned around and shot back the path they had just come from. He had never seen his King so enraged. Conrad hurried after Yuuri and was just in time to see Yuuri’s fist smash into Wolfram’s nose. The woman screamed and jumped up, hurrying away from the two men.

“You lying son of a bitch!”

Wolfram didn’t try to avoid another hit and was dropped to the grass by Yuuri’s second punch to his face. 

“What the fuck did you give me to sign?!”

Yuuri grabbed the blond by the front of his uniform and swung his fist again and it seemed that Wolfram wasn't going to defend himself.

“Your Majesty, stop it!”

Panting in rage, but not trying to throw Conrad off him, Yuuri stared down at Wolfram, who was getting up from the grass. The blond spat blood out then tried to wipe his bleeding nose on his sleeve and the back of his hand. Almost immediately the blood spurted down again.

“So you know,” Wolfram stated, looking at the bush of roses behind Yuuri. He raised his hand to wipe his nose again.

“The fuck I know!” Yuuri screamed at him. “What is this about?!” He struggled against Conrad’s grip on his arms. “Let go of me!” Yuuri gritted his teeth. “Conrad, let go of me!” he hissed. “I’m not going to do anything to him!” He pushed Conrad away roughly as the man let go. “Look at me, Wolfram! What the hell is that agreement about?!”

In two strides Yuuri was beside the blond who would not meet his eyes. “Will you fucking look at me?!” he yelled, grabbing Wolfram by his hair, forcing his head up, wrenching a pained cry from the blond’s throat.

“Your Majesty!” Conrad shouted aghast, but the king ignored him, jerking Wolfram’s head back, making the blond choke on his own blood.

“So will you explain this to me?!” Yuuri snarled at Wolfram’s face. He let go of his husband’s hair as he nodded meekly.

“Not here,” Wolfram muttered, wiping again at the blood and smearing it on his face. “It’s a long talk.”

Yuuri gave a rough tug to the blond’s collar. “C’mon, bastard!” he hissed, dragging Wolfram towards the castle. 

Wolfram let himself being pulled. Wordlessly, Yuuri lugged him through the garden and into the Castle, then all the way upstairs and into their chambers. All the while the guards they passed were gaping at them in a stunned stupor. Once in their chambers, Yuuri shoved Wolfram toward a table to seat him in one of the chairs there. He took the place opposite his husband.

“What agreement was Conrad talking about? And who the heck is that woman?” he demanded.

Wolfram rubbed over his face, the dried blood now crumbling and falling off his pale skin. “It’s the agreement for me to choose an Entrusted Lady. She’s one of the candidates.”

“What is “an Entrusted Lady”?”

Yuuri’s voice was controlled but still on the verge of turning back into screaming. Wolfram had a panicky feeling that his husband wouldn’t even want to try and understand him. Feeling the anger wafting from Yuuri, he was afraid to look at him.

“It’s a woman who agrees to bear a child for a male couple,” Wolfram explained slowly.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Yuuri burst out, ready to strangle Wolfram. “I get none of this!”

“It’s quite common for a male pair to find a female to deliver a baby for them.”

“I’ll hit you again if you don’t start making sense right now! What does it have to do with us?!”

Wolfram rubbed his face again. He could feel his left eye and cheek swelling rapidly. “Nothing really. But it has to do with the fact that I am the last of von Bielefeld’s and my duty is to prolong the name,” Wolfram explained quietly, still not raising his eyes from the table surface. “I need an heir to secure the family, its name, its lands and leadership. If I don’t prolong my line it’s over. I can’t allow that. Can you understand that, Yuuri?” He finally raised his eyes, but flinched at the look of pure hurt and shock that Yuuri was giving him.

Yuuri stared at him. “Jesus fucking Christ, Wolfram…” he choked out after a second. “I… I…don’t even know what to say.” His fingers gripped the table so hard that they were white already. It seemed as if his entire life was falling into pieces around him, and he was helpless to do anything about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, you fucking should be! Oh god,” Yuuri ruffled through his hair with his hands, laughing out suddenly, “is this some freakin’ nightmare or something? Just tell me it’s a joke.”

Wolfram listened to the harsh near hysterical laughter echoing off the luxurious tapestry. “I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he said again.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Yuuri cursed. He jumped out of his chair. “I can’t believe this!” His head snapped back to Wolfram who was hunching in his seat, his eyes again lowered. There was shame and guilt in that pose, and Yuuri clenched his fists as anger and desperation washed over him with a renewed force. “And what about the document?! When the hell did I sign it?!”

“You were drunk. I lied to you that you were signing permission to hire another maid.”

Yuuri laughed again then grabbed at his head. “Oh my fucking god,” he spat while shaking his head frantically.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut the hell up!” Yuuri snarled at him. “How long has it been going on?! Wolfram, why the hell do I get to find out something so huge like this?! Why?!”

“I knew that you wouldn’t have allowed it otherwise. And…”

“Are you nuts?! Do you think I will allow it now?! You are mine, Wolfram! You are my husband! Do you think I feel like sharing or something?!” Yuuri screamed at him. He suddenly fell silent as an unexpected thought occurred to him. “Or maybe it’s already too late?! -Maybe I already need to congratulate you?!”

Wolfram groaned. “No, Yuuri, stop it. It’s…”

“No, Wolfram! I will not allow something like this!” Yuuri declared, glaring at the blond.

“Yuuri, no. You can’t…”

“I will nullify that agreement immediately and after that I don't want to see any of those women here nor ever hear about this shit again. Do you understand me?” Yuuri demanded.

Wolfram’s knuckles turned white from squeezing his knees under the table. “I…I…In that case I’ll have to apply for a divorce.” 

Yuuri stared at him. “I can’t fucking believe this…” he stuttered after a few seconds. Wolfram had just issued an ultimatum.

“Yuuri, please listen to me. I am the only one who can prolong the family and its influence. I can’t back off. Don’t make me do it,” Wolfram begged, lifting his head to focus desperate eyes on his furious husband.

“So now you are threatening me?!”

“No! I’m not threatening you, Yuuri. But it’s something that must be done.”

Yuuri paced back and forth through the room then dropped back into his chair opposite the blond. The king stared at his husband’s rapidly swelling face, at the bruise that had appeared under his left eye. 

“For fuck’s sake…” Yuuri groaned then leaned back into the backrest. “Your father. Why he…?”

Wolfram shook his head. “During the last war he sustained an injury and…well, he can’t. That’s why I am his only child. We thought about everything already.”

“Shit. Who is that “we”?”

“Yuuri, please, think about it and…”

“And what the fuck do you expect me to do then?!” Yuuri raised his voice again. “You can’t be serious! It’s impossible! I won’t allow it!”

“Yuuri…”

“Enough, Wolfram!” Yuuri shouted, jumping out of his chair again and going to the door. “Just enough!” he shook his head before slamming the door behind him.

The merciless door slam actually made Wolfram jerk in his seat. He stared at the door then pressed his forehead to the cool surface of the table and sighed heavily.

XXXXX

Wolfram was already in bed as the king entered the bedroom. Yuuri's mind was still in turmoil, he was boiling in anger and he even had thought of washing it all away with alcohol, but in the end he was even too fussed for that.

Without a word, he undressed and got into bed. After shifting around for a few moments, he stilled, laying on his side of the bed, his back to Wolfram. Wolfram’s frame was being shaken by loud hiccups, and he, just like Wolfram, was also far from sleeping. 

After calming down a little and thinking it all over, as well as having a short word with Gunter, who was not able to tell much except that, naturally, everyone had been sure that it had been done with his knowledge, he was still at a loss. Of course, nobody had thought that Wolfram had never informed him. It was simply inconceivable. They had been keeping it quiet and not bringing up because they knew it must have cost him to sign the permission. It must have been Wolfram who advised them not to ever mention it.

It also became obvious that Wolfram had made the arrangements to be carried out while the two of them were absent on Earth. It must have been Wolfram’s father who had undertaken the task of composing a list of appropriate women. So while they had been gone, the von Bielefeld family had broadcast the news a candidate was needed to bear the noble child. Of course, there must have been many applying. Bearing a child for von Bielefelds, and at the same time for the Prince Consort, would be a huge personal advancement and honor.

And it was also clear that Wolfram had expected him to find this out later. When it was already too late to change anything.

Yuuri let out an angry sigh. For Wolfram it was always like this – either everything or nothing. He must have hoped for a better result when it was already too late and he had only two choices – either leave Wolfram or let him do as he wished. Now, as there was no child yet, he still could somehow prevent it. He could forbid this nonsense. But at the same time he knew that in that case, he would leave no option for Wolfram except for walking away from their marriage. Which neither of them wanted.

Yuuri rubbed his forehead and turned on his back to stare at the ceiling. He had no idea of what he was going to do. He turned his head to Wolfram’s side where another loud hiccup was heard. It seemed that Wolfram was on a verge of a nervous breakdown. When under great emotional pressure he either hiccupped or had some nervous tic coursing through his body. 

“Go get some water,” Yuuri said, annoyed.

The bundle on the other side of the bed moved then stood up and tapped softly out of the bedroom. Yuuri heard the door close behind Wolfram. 

Half an hour later Wolfram still wasn’t back. Yuuri rolled out of the bed, angry with himself for even caring. He left the bedroom and found the blond as soon as he entered the next room. In the darkness of the unlit room, Wolfram was sitting on the stone windowsill, his head against the cold glass. His hunched, cover wrapped figure made Yuuri sigh inwardly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“They won’t-” Wolfram hiccupped loudly, “stop. I didn’t,” he hiccupped again, “want to keep you awake.”

Yuuri rubbed his forehead. “Go back to bed. You’ll get cold here,” he said before turning around and returning to the bedroom. Leaving the door open, he crossed the bedroom and lay down again. A minute later he heard the door shutting and soft padding of feet on the carpet. The mattress sank on Wolfram’s side and the blond was in.

Yuuri listened to the stifled hiccups for what seemed like a long time then they started getting fewer and fewer, until they finally disappeared and were replaced by his husband’s quiet breathing. Yuuri listened to it for a while then also drifted off to sleep.

XXXXX

Yuuri roused slowly then wished he hadn’t. Lying still, he thought about how good it would be if it all turned out to be only a morbid dream. It was said that everything looked better in the morning, but actually despite yesterday's cloggy buzz in his head being gone, it became even worse. Because now he was able to clearly comprehend the seriousness of the situation.

Yuuri turned to his side. Wolfram’s swollen nose and black puffed eye made him wince. They had squabbled in the past, but this was the first time it was so bad. Hurt and anger had made him lash out. But no matter the circumstances, he regretted having hit his husband.

Wolfram stirred lightly at the gentle touch but continued sleeping. The blond unconsciously turned his head so that his face would get more of the pleasant treatment. Yuuri continued to spread the healing spell for a few minutes then lowered his arm away from Wolfram’s face.

He had to do some serious thinking about the entire situation, about what could be done to avoid the unwanted turn of events. He also had to talk to someone who knew about the entire matter and was skilled and knowledgeable in local customs. Although he had no doubt that Wolfram had already considered all the possibilities before letting things get so far along. But still, there had to be a different way to settle this.

Just recently he had said to Asami that there was nothing that would make him endanger or reject his and Wolfram’s relationship. So what was he going to do now?

Yuuri climbed out of the bed, grabbed a change of clothes from the wardrobe and went to the baths.

As soon as the door closed, Wolfram’s eyes opened. The blond turned to look at the window then pushed the covers away and sat up. He thought about feigning illness, but then rejected the thought. He would have to face Yuuri sooner or later anyway. For a few minutes Wolfram just sat there with his head lowered then climbed out of the bed.

From experience Wolfram knew that his and Yuuri’s backgrounds and cultures were very different, and he was familiar with most of Yuuri’s views on things. He had known beforehand that things would not go well. Yuuri would overlook some flirting, never getting jealous needlessly, but touching…that was something Yuuri was very territorial about. To have him sleep with someone else, and even have a child, meant that he would trample all over Yuuri’s pride. It also meant many other things that could denote the end of his and Yuuri’s marriage and relationship.

It was pretty common to have an Entrusted Lady in Shin Makoku, whereas, as The Great Sage had told him, there was first a matter of a homosexual couple to deal with on Earth. There was no such thing as an Entrusted Lady on Earth, at least not in the same sense that Wolfram understood. The Great Sage had also warned that Yuuri might even see this turn of events as a personal insult and mockery. Wolfram was glad that Yuuri did not think so. His husband was just very upset about the situation itself and furious with him for keeping it silent.

XXXXX

“You knew, didn’t you?” Yuuri asked.

Murata gave him a short look then went back to reading the huge book that he had lying on the desk in front of him. “Didn’t everyone know?” he muttered.

Yuuri’s face contorted in anger. “I mean... you knew that Wolfram had never told me anything!”

“Well, yes,” Murata shrugged his shoulders.

“Why did you keep silent!?” Yuuri demanded, shouting. It always irritated him when Murata thought himself relieved of his common duty as his subordinate. This time it enraged him.

“I shall not interfere in your marital affairs, Your Majesty,” Murata said bluntly. “And as for this getting so far without Your Majesty knowing anything, Your Majesty should just have a talk with the Prince Consort.” He sighed then, closing the book with a solid thump. “The entire castle is buzzing about you hitting him. He’s walking around all black and swollen in the face,” Murata said, coming back to an informal way of talking. “And was it really necessary to drag him around like a dog?”

Yuuri snorted then dropped into the chair in front of Murata. He opened his mouth.

“Actually, I expected it to be much worse,” Murata said before Yuuri could speak, as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. “Like him needing a hospital or you going berserk and demolishing half of the Castle.”

Yuuri closed his mouth. He sighed heavily. “Ah, I wish it was that easy. Just beat the shit out of him and that would be it.”

Murata’s face was lit by a short smile. “Yeah, other than venting your anger, that won’t solve a thing.”

Yuuri sagged in his seat while slouching against the back of the chair. He was far from relaxed, but almost two days of stress had burned him out. “Why not adopt a child?” he suggested hopefully.

Murata gave him a sympathetic look. Yuuri’s futile struggles were making him pity the man. “Yuuri, it’s all about blood. This is a backwater planet, if, for some weird reason, you haven’t noticed. There’s always disorder and trouble even when there is a daughter to inherit the wealth and house. How do you expect some stranger to inherit von Bielefeld’s name and history?”

Yuuri closed his eyes with a sigh. He had never ever thought that he might find himself in a situation like this. Maintaining a relationship while… 

“Waaaait,” Yuuri held out his hand as another thought occurred to him. “Does this also mean that unless it’s a son, Wolfram would have to try again?”

“Yes.”

Yuuri rubbed at his eyes. The urge to laugh hysterically nearly overwhelmed his mind. Well, wasn’t it just a lottery? The prizes were: a son, a daughter, von Bielfelds’ stability, Wolfram’s happiness, his own happiness, the happiness of the two of them. It was impossible to win all of them. Yuuri couldn’t believe he was even considering this.

“Alright,” Yuuri said after he was sure he got himself together and would be able to talk without bursting out in hysterics. “What about artificial insemination? That’s a possibility, isn’t it?”

Murata gave him a disbelieving look. “Whereas it’s a technical possibility, these are noble families of a feudal, almost medieval culture, Yuuri. If you start talking about something like that, you will either end up insulting them or they might think that it’s bringing an evil spirit into this world. No one will agree to this.”

Yuuri stared at him for a long minute. “So he has to have a son,” he said while neither asking nor confirming. “And there is no other way.”

“Exactly. If there were any other way, Wolfram would have found it. He knew you would hate it. You can't think that he wanted this.”

Yuuri groaned. “I know. It’s not that I'm blaming him. It’s that…”

“You feel desperate and helpless which makes you angry,” Murata said, cutting him off. “Simple enough, but the choice is before you. You either accept it or refuse it.”

Yuuri watched Murata’s face for a few seconds then turned to look through the window at the sky that was showing the oncoming night. One could still read without a candle but the room was drowned in the yellowish light that was becoming thicker with each passing minute.

“Talk to him, Yuuri,” Murata said. “Simply talk to him and try to decide what is most important to you. Changes are unavoidable, but one can always make the most of the situation.”

XXXXX

Wolfram did not turn up for dinner. It was quiet at the table, none of those gathered were speaking, the uneasy scrapping of eating utensils rasping against the plates too loud in the edgy silence. If felt as if the enormous-sized dining-room was mocking the six of them.

Cecilie was absent on one of her “love search” trips. She had been absent for almost a month already. Yuuri wondered if that was just a coincidence or if Wolfram made sure that his mother got an inspiration to travel. Yuuri doubted if Cecilie would have been able to keep quiet. Trying to keep silent about a matter like this probably would have killed her.

Conrad seemed to be very worried about all of this. The man was hardly eating, watching Yuuri with concerned eyes. Yuuri did not talk to Conrad, neither had he asked him anything. From that short episode in the garden it was clear what Conrad thought and would suggest anyway.

Gunter, on the other hand, did not seem very bothered. The lavender-haired man had explained the local customs to Yuuri and said that Wolfram having an Entrusted Lady would not affect his position as king or the Kingdom itself and just left it at that. He was not able to see a problem.

Gwendal was another matter. The General had told Yuuri to be reasonable and advised him not to do anything that he might regret later. Yuuri felt that in case he decided to leave Wolfram, he better start looking for a new man to replace Gwendal. Keeping in mind that Gwendal dealt with military intelligence and was the General of the Army, it would pose a serious problem. Another difficulty was that in case it turned out really nasty, Gwendal might make a dangerous enemy.

Anissina seemed to only be curious as to how all of this would end. Yuuri had not talked to Gisela, but he could tell that she was worried and wanted him to find a compromise with Wolfram.

Yuuri had no idea how his blood-related family would react, but had no time to inform them about the mess. Actually, he suspected that his mother might be happy and start buying clothes for the future “grandson”. His father might just be neutral. But the one Yuuri really wanted to talk to and ask for advice was his brother.

The dinner ended just like it started – silently. While climbing upstairs to his chambers, Yuuri could feel the guards’ gazes following his back. He had been violent with his husband, and the castle guards were at a loss what they should do if that were to happen again. Their priorities lay with their king, but the protection of Prince Consort was also their duty.

Yuuri reached the top of the stairs and turned to his and Wolfram’s chambers. Hearing the door open, Wolfram turned to look at him. The blond was standing at the open window, partly leaning on the windowsill. Yuuri shut the door behind him softly and stepped into the dark room.

“Why did you skip dinner?”

“I wasn't hungry,” Wolfram muttered.

Yuuri said nothing to that. He walked over to the sofa. Falling onto it heavily, he snapped his fingers to light a few candles, making the room glow in yellow light. “We need to talk, Wolfram,” he said.

Wolfram gave an uneasy nod and left the window. 

“First of all,” Yuuri started, after Wolfram had sat down, “I want to say that I still can’t wrap my mind around it. My thoughts and feelings are in chaos and I have no idea what to do.

“I discussed the matter with Gunter, Murata and Gwendal. It seems that there is really is no other way except for you to have a son. But one thing that I don’t understand is why now. I asked around, but it doesn’t seem that anyone is threatening the von Bielefeld’s status. Your lifespan can reach up to five hundred years. Why now?”

Wolfram stood up and went to the sideboard where he extended his arm to open the door. He started at Yuuri’s hand that set on his just as his fingers reached the knob. He hadn’t heard the man move.

“You need to start controlling this recent hobby of yours. Besides, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach,” Yuuri said.

Wolfram stared at the tempting door then removed his hand from the knob. “It must be done sooner or later,” he muttered, not turning around, but feeling Yuuri’s intent eyes watching him. “I prefer to deal with it sooner. I don't have the guts to wait and to think and be afraid of what might or might not happen. This past month almost drove me crazy.”

“Then why did you hide it? Do you have any idea how I feel?!”

“I’m sorry.”

““Sorrys” can’t excuse your sneakiness, Wolfram. It was as if you had spit in my face! Why didn’t you discuss it with me like you should have done? Like a real man would have done!”

Wolfram’s head snapped around to face Yuuri. “Okay, I'm a coward, Yuuri!” he hissed. “Okay, I’m a sneaky bastard! I wanted to tell you, I started to more than once, but you burst in all smiling and announce that we were going on holiday. And I wanted to spend that holiday with you because it might have been our last!”

Gwendal had told him to be reasonable. Fuck it. This was exactly what he was doing right now – being reasonable, and he had just reasonably slugged Wolfram right in his face. So Gwendal should be happy now.

“If you ever pull shit like this again,” Yuuri hissed down at Wolfram who was kneeling on the carpet, hunched in pain, and holding the right side of his face, “it really will be our last. Don’t give me this bullshit. You leading me around by the nose and playing with my feelings is not something I'm happy about.”

“It’s not like that!”

“I am your husband, Wolfram,” Yuuri growled out. “If there’s something going on, I am the first person you must run to and report. Not after a month... or a year or two... or never. There must be no attempts to justify this sort of stuff and your carrying on about how you wanted to drag these lies out. There must be no such thing, Wolfram.” 

Wolfram stayed silent, staring at the tips of Yuuri’s boots. He was still pressing his palm to his rapidly swelling face.

“I don’t know, Wolfram. I don’t fucking know what to do.” 

TBC


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : I haven't seen season 3, so if some inconsistencies come up… Well, they will just come up and let’s leave it at that. I somehow can never get around to watching season 3. I suppose the main reason is that I've never liked this anime too much.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 6

In the candlelight, Wolfram stared at the reflection of his swollen face in the mirror. It looked nasty and it was going to look even nastier tomorrow, in the daylight. His left eye, which had almost healed during the day, was black and swollen again, and he could hardly see through the slit that it had become. It also hurt like a bitch. Ah, getting punched by his husband twice in a row was rich. On the other hand, he had expected Yuuri to go berserk. A few slaps like these were nothing.

Wolfram raised his hand to cast a healing spell. 

His and Yuuri’s confrontation did not solve anything. Yuuri was in turmoil and not ready to discuss the matter calmly. After punching him and spilling out his frustration, his husband had wandered through their chambers aimlessly then abruptly left for the baths.

Wolfram lowered his hand from his face. The reflection in the mirror did not look any better. He stood up from the chair to go to the half-open window where a soft breeze felt soothing on his burning skin. He had not followed Yuuri to the baths. First, he was not so sure if his husband would welcome his company. Second, with a face like this, it was better to just sit tight. The guards were already tense and anxious, the talks and rumors in the castle not ceasing even for a second.

Wolfram stared down at the dark city. His fingers gripped the windowsill tighter. He could feel his hands shaking. He was afraid. He had expected this to happen and had been waiting for the unavoidable, but when it finally struck…he was not ready at all. He was so afraid he actually felt sick when he thought about Yuuri leaving him. 

When the king came back from the baths, Wolfram was already in bed, on the verge of dozing off. He stirred at the sound of the door closing. His sleepy eyes watched his husband moving about in the half-light. Then the mattress on the other side sank.

“I want to talk with your father,” Yuuri said, after climbing into the bed. “Get him here.” 

It was silent at first then a soft “alright” wafted from the other side of the bed. Yuuri turned to his side, facing away from Wolfram, extinguishing the candles. It was full-moon, the light seeping past the heavy curtains, filling the bedroom. It was silent... too silent, the silence stretching and turning into an unpleasant squeak. It was obnoxious, but neither knew how to break it without bringing the subject up. This distance between them… Even if they were still sharing the same bed…this was just nerve-wracking.

Yuuri was not sure what he wanted to get from the conversation with Wolfram’s father. Wolfram and his father weren’t close. There was some unspoken hostility between the two, father and son meeting only when it was necessary. Wolfram hardly ever spoke about his father, and when he did, it felt as if he were speaking about some stranger, someone he did not like. Gwendal was the one to take a father’s figure in Wolfram’s mind. Wolfram respected and loved him. Gwendal apparently forever thought of Wolfram as his cute little brother and always felt responsible for him. It seemed that Wolfram would never outgrow this status in Gwendal's eyes. 

Yuuri didn’t know how it had turned out like this and whether the faulty relationship between father and son was Cecilie’s or Wolfram’s father’s fault, but things were how they were. Nonetheless, Wolfram was the only von Bielefeld heir, the only one capable of leaving others after himself and that mattered a great deal.

Yuuri wondered about this being some punishment of Fate for saying that Wolfram wouldn’t know what to do with a woman. Was this a cruel joke? His words had been tossed right back in his face. Wolfram had never had any sexual contact with women and had never seemed interested in having one. What if…what if suddenly he decided that he liked it? What if he decided that he liked it better than..? This was a ridiculous thought. Wolfram was gay, right? But the worry was there, somewhere deep inside him. 

Angry with himself, Yuuri turned on his back to stare at the ceiling. Why was he even thinking like this?! As if he already had consented to… Never. Such a… 

XXXXX

Yuuri was sitting his study, working. He was reading a report of the recent attack on one of the villages in the west of Shin Makoku. A group of raiders had been terrorizing the villages in that territory for quite some time already. A week ago he had sent a squad to deal with them, but it seemed that there were no tangible results yet. The robbers knew about the danger and were sticking close to the woods. It was going to take some time to eliminate them.

Yuuri sighed and turned to look out the window. Any other time he would be irritated about the inability to deal with the robbers, but his mind was not on that. The entire previous week and – each new day was spent the same – in indecision. After talking to Wolfram’s father, Yuuri did not find the solution he had been looking for. There was no quick remedy that he had wished for so much. Lord von Bielefeld said that he had only reminded his son of the duty to his house. Wolfram had consented to that and then was presented with the list of suitable women. Another thing was that Lord von Bielefeld did not understand the problem in his son having an Entrusted Lady. He had obviously been warned by Wolfram about the situation, but while talking with his father-in-law, Yuuri could feel hostility wafting from him. It was as if Lord von Bielefeld was waiting for an explanation from Yuuri as to why Yuuri was interfering with the von Bielefelds’ affairs, making his husband tarry with looking for an appropriate woman. Yuuri was in no mood for explaining it all to the man who did not realize that the matter was serious. It was the first time the difference in cultures was so irritating.

Yuuri lowered his head, bringing his attention back to the report. Then it rose from the document again. Had he imagined someone calling him? He stared at the door of his study then observed the two elite guards next to the door who seemed unconcerned and lowered his head back to the document. A sound of quickly tapping feet made him frown at the paper.

“Yuuri!”

The king almost toppled over in his chair as Murata burst into his study like a storm. With shaky hands Yuuri lowered the document back to the desk and smoothed it out. He had almost torn it in two in his startle. His gaze rose to Murata and the alarmed guards. Yuuri quickly stood up as Murata’s expression was filled with worry. Something bad had happened.

“Yuuri, it’s Wolfram. He's hurt. He was sparring with his men and…”

Yuuri was already on his way before Murata could finish the sentence. “Where is he?” Yuuri demanded, pushing through the door and breaking into a run.

“With Gisela,” Murata answered, scuttling after Yuuri, trying to catch up with him and his bodyguards who were following him. 

“Is it serious?” Yuuri questioned, throwing the question over his shoulder.

“It looks really bad,” Murata panted out, barely keeping up with the king. “But we need to wait for Gisela to examine him.”

The group reached the main doors. The alarmed men guarding the doors opened them for the king, who rushed quickly past them. The medical area was in a building situated a little distance from the castle. Gisela demanded peace and quiet for her patients. There were about twenty people working there. Eight of them were healers and apprentices. That many caretakers were not really needed as usually there were about 10 patients. But Gisela was the only healer always present. Other healers usually visited patients from the city or worked in their own herbals and stillrooms. However, in cases of epidemics or battles patients would start flowing in at a scary rate.

Yuuri threw the door open and burst into the entry alcove, moving without stopping directly to the treatment area at the opposite end of the room. A sharp smell of herbs and ointments beset Yuuri’s senses, making him even more worried. His eyes immediately set on the blond, who was standing in front of Gisela, his back to the doorway. Hearing the commotion, the blond turned from Gisela who had been dabbing at his face with a piece of damp cloth.

“Yuuri?” he mumbled the name, narrowing his eyes at the pain it caused.

Yuuri stared at his husband. Wolfram’s chin was puffed out and swollen, his lower lip split, turning blue, blood still dripping.

“Your Highness,” Gisela raised the saturated cloth in the air.

Wolfram turned to face her again. The healer continued to clean the wound with the cloth.

“Wolfram, are you…?” Yuuri could not finish the sentence as his voice broke.

“Hmm?” Wolfram hummed without turning around, letting Gisela do her job.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked after swallowing loudly.

Wolfram blinked at Gisela’s face. “I woulfn’t shay that,” he said.

“What is…?”

Wolfram turned around to face his husband then grinned at him while wincing. Two lower teeth on one side were missing. “It’ll take a while beshore thosh grow back,” Wolfram muffled.

Yuuri pointed at the blond’s mouth. “How the heck did this happen?” His eyes then caught the third person that had already been present in the room before he came in. It was a soldier wearing a blue uniform, obviously one of his husband’s men. The soldier looked as if he had been sentenced to death. So this was the culprit.

“I losht my coshetratiosh while shparring,” Wolfram explained, wincing. “Wash whackt right insh my feish.”

Yuuri felt all the strength leave his legs. He looked around then just sagged down into a chair at the wall. The relief that he was feeling right now was overwhelming. This was the best news ever; he had never been happier in his life about two missing teeth. 

“Whash wrong?”

“I was told you were seriously injured.”

Wolfram blinked at him. He pointed at his distorted mouth. “Well, I am. Itch hurtsh like hell.”

Yuuri turned to the door. Of course, Murata was nowhere to be seen. Little conniving bastard. Yuuri exhaled loudly. Wolfram’s teeth were his last concern. Mazoku’s, also most of half-Mazoku’s, teeth always grew back if they rotted away or got punched out. Wolfram would have new ones in two months.

So this was what Murata had meant by saying that he had to decide what was the most important in his life…

“Your Highness,” Gisela called. “A spoonful of this before sleep will reduce the pain and make sleep much easier,” she said holding a bottle out when the prince’s concentration was on her again.

“Tshashksh,” Wolfram said while taking the bottle.

Yuuri sighed. “It seems that you’ll have a few days off. I can’t understand a thing you are saying.” Closing his eyes, Yuuri gave a sign of dismissal for his bodyguards. “Is it all, Gisela?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Can you leave me for a moment?”

The green-haired woman bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Yuuri heard the door close then opened his eyes to look at Wolfram who shook the bottle in his hand then looked at the brownish liquid closely. After that his concerned green eyes set on Yuuri. 

“Wolfram, could you leave me alone? I need to think.”

The disturbance in the emerald eyes was overwhelming but Wolfram only nodded. “Shure.”

Yuuri leaned his head back as he heard the closing door click softly. He sat like that for five minutes. Then he remembered.

“Hey,” Yuuri said without opening his eyes, “you are still here, aren’t you?”

The nervous soldier at the other side of the room nodded fearfully. “Y-yes, Your Majesty,” he voiced after realizing that the king was not looking at him. “I-I’m very sorry for hurting…”

Yuuri cut him off by waving his hand dismissively. He opened his eyes. “If the Prince Consort holds no grudge against you, then I am fine with this. You can go.”

“T-thank You, Your Majesty!”

Yuuri listened to the scurrying steps then sighed heavily.

XXXXX

It was late evening and Yuuri was on his way to his and Wolfram’s chambers. The guards he passed seemed to be more relaxed than earlier. That was probably because he felt calmer, not an aggravating mass of anger, hurt and confusion. During this turmoil, he had been tearing around the castle like a wounded animal.

Yuuri reached the doors and after entering them, he found his husband sitting on the sofa. The blond stood up seeing him come in. Recently Wolfram had it really tough. Yuuri winced sympathetically at the sight of Wolfram’s swollen jaw. The lip now was purple and of an incredible size, his chin black and blue. Yuuri caught himself thinking about finding that soldier and giving him a good thrashing.

Yuuri walked over to the prince. He motioned at the sofa. “Sit down, Wolfram.” The tension wafting from his husband was almost tangible.

The blond nodded, sitting down, but his back stayed straight and tense. His attention was all on his husband when Yuuri took his place next to him.

“I have decided,” Yuuri said, looking back at Wolfram. “You can have an Entrusted Lady.” 

Something akin to a strangled gasp left Wolfram’s mouth. Yuuri’s arms enclosed Wolfram who slumped against him, a puppet with its strings cut. The blond’s head fell on his king’s shoulder. Yuuri threaded his fingers through the rich blond hair. His husband was shaking.

“There are two conditions, though,” Yuuri continued. “First, I don’t want to know or hear anything about the woman. Second, I will always be your priority. Do you agree?”

Wolfram slid out of his husband’s embrace and off the sofa. Kneeling before his husband, Wolfram wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s legs to keep from sagging into the carpet. He felt boneless with relief. “Thank you,” he whispered, resting his forehead on Yuuri’s knees. “Thank you.”

Yuuri reached down to pull Wolfram up so that the blond was half-leaning against his body. “Do you agree?” he repeated.

Wolfram nodded quickly. “Yes, I do. Of course, I agree.”

Yuuri stroked the blond locks again then pressed a kiss to them. “Good. Now go to the baths then we’ll have a good sleep. We both need one.” He let go of Wolfram then watched him walk over to the wardrobe and look for a change of clothes. His husband’s steps were unsteady and he seemed to be weak with relief. Suddenly the thought of Wolfram taking a hot bath alone did not seem that clever. 

Yuuri stood up. “I’ll go with you.”

Wolfram turned around. He shook his head, chuckling. “I won’t faint, don’t worry.”

“Hn. Alright.”

When the door closed behind the prince, Yuuri sagged into the sofa. This had cost him much more strength and courage than he had wanted Wolfram to see. And it still was going to cost him dignity. He had decided, and the decision was final, but that did not mean that he liked it. Nonetheless, whether he liked it or not, he could not let go of Wolfram.

Yuuri leaned his head on the backrest. Wolfram had agreed to his terms without any hesitation. But it was not going to be easy, they both knew that. Shaking his head to get rid of unwanted thoughts, Yuuri sighed. Now he found himself wondering when Kyota would show up. Kyota had enough sense not to turn up and mess with Wolfram’s marital affairs, knowing that Wolfram would kick him out personally. But now, as it was solved, he undoubtedly was going to appear. Somehow the other male was always able to tell when Wolfram was in trouble. He obviously had someone in the castle reporting to him. 

Yuuri stood up and went to the wardrobe to look for his pajamas. He changed and went to bed. Wolfram returned half an hour later. Just on the edge of sleep, the king could hear his husband moving about, then Wolfram climbed into the bed. Yuuri felt him wriggling about, then the blond snuggled close to his back and his arm slid around Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri hummed contentedly. Needless to say, this past week had been sleepless. He was also sure that was the reason for Wolfram getting whacked by a common soldier – his husband was worn out, tired and distracted. Yuuri hoped that tonight the two of them would finally get the peaceful sleep they both needed.

XXXXX

Yuuri woke up with a sudden jerk. It was too light in the room. His eyes shot to a clock on the nightstand. He had overslept! Yuuri sat up in the bed. Why had nobody woken them up?!

“It’s alright,” a sleepy voice wafted from beside him. “I told Gunter that we’d sleep in. You have no meetings today anyway.”

Yuuri stared at the back of the blond head. He nodded then lay down and shifted closer to his husband’s back. He could tell that Wolfram was in a light doze, still hanging between dreams and reality. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his breath tickling Wolfram’s nape.

Wolfram’s eyes opened to stare at the luxurious tapestry in front of him. He could feel Yuuri’s warm breath on his neck and the tingling sent apprehensive shivers down his entire body. But the question asked was not the question Yuuri wanted to ask; would they survive this?

“I’m okay as long as you are beside me.”

Yuuri gazed at the golden locks curling on the pale nape. He pressed his forehead to them. Inhaling the heady scent, he wondered what Wolfram had dreamt about – Wolfram, like most men, had a tendency to have erotic dreams right before waking up. This time was no exception, the blond’s scent overflowed with unfulfilled need. Yuuri pressed his lips to the curve of Wolfram’s neck. At this time of day Wolfram was the most responsive, craving and loving his every touch.

Was it really possible to get over something like this? Just carry on? What about everything that was still ahead? “I love you, Wolfram, you know that,” Yuuri said, laying his head back onto the pillow. “But this…it might destroy everything we’ve had up until now.” He pressed his palm to the blond’s back to slowly trace it from the left shoulder blade to the small of his back.

Wolfram savored the warmth of Yuuri’s hand that seeped through his pajama top. He wanted more. Giving the opposite wall a resolute look, he said, “Yuuri, I will never easily let go of you, believe in that.”

Yuuri let out a sour chuckle. “Seems a bit weird, you saying that after…”

Wolfram sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s natural that you are bitter, but, please, let’s not go back to that again. It will just…”

Unseen by his husband, Yuuri nodded silently. Scratching at a bleeding wound did no good. Reaching out, Yuuri wrapped his arm around Wolfram’s waist and pressed his lips to his nape to nip at the skin there. At first the blond tensed but then relaxed, lowering his head, letting him do anything he wanted, what both of them wanted. Sex was probably the wisest decision they could make right now.

With his arm drawn over Wolfram’s side, Yuuri pulled the slighter body close to him. He sucked lightly at the bared skin. He kept it just at the right pressure so as not to leave marks.

Wolfram let out a low moan as Yuuri’s hand slid from his waist then to his stomach and under the rim of his pajama pants. The fingers wriggled through his pubic hair then slipped further to find the prince semi-erect.

“Does your face hurt?”

“N-no,” Wolfram grunted, “not really.” He bucked as Yuuri’s palm wrapped around him. “But kissing is out of the question.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything to this. What he intended to do required no kissing anyway. The leisurely pace that he had started with his hand had already brought the blond to full hardness. Yuuri’s own erection was proudly tenting the loose material of his pajama bottoms. A week of chastity was way too much for them both. The blond’s body was already feverish, the heat wafting from him in waves, his hips following Yuuri’s lead blindly, pushing against the tight fist.

At some point Yuuri’s hips started rocking, then he tugged at Wolfram’s pajama bottoms to push them down and bare his husband’s behind. He pressed against Wolfram to rub himself against his crease. At once, Wolfram moved his legs forward, his backside pushing back at him invitingly. Wanting to tease both of them and draw this out, Yuuri removed his hand from his husband’s pulsing erection. Listening to Wolfram’s pants, he continued rubbing his clad arousal against the blond.

“Mm…” Wolfram hummed, his fingers gripping at the bedding as the hard length slid right past his opening. He rubbed his cheek against the pillow. This was becoming too much. “Yu-Yuuri,” he panted out, barely keeping himself from grabbing his dick and just finishing himself off. “I can’t… Mmm…” Wolfram moaned again at the feel of the hardness pushing against him teasingly. Then the pressure retreated, leaving him tense and unfulfilled. Wolfram felt the bed move and turned around to see Yuuri impatiently rummaging through the drawers of the nightstand.

“Where’s the lube?”

“Should…” Wolfram swallowed loudly, “…be at the back of that drawer.” He pointed with his hand. He saw Yuuri retrieve the tube and a few condoms. “I’m clean,” he muttered. Wolfram removed his pants then unbuttoned the top of the pajamas, slipping them off and letting both fall to the floor.

Tossing the condoms back into the drawer, Yuuri pushed his pants down then discarded them onto the floor. He returned to the bed. Wolfram had already turned away, lying on his side again. It was obvious that he didn’t want Yuuri to see his discolored face.

“I really want to smack him around a few times,” Yuuri muttered, pushing the covers away and down to the foot of the bed, leaving Wolfram’s naked body exposed. 

“Don’t get distracted.”

Chuckling, Yuuri crawled over to his husband. Holding the tube of lube in one hand, Yuuri leaned in to kiss the pale shoulder, then his lips left it, and marking their way with soft nips and licks, started traveling to the blond’s neck.

Wolfram stifled a moan when their bare skin came flush, Yuuri’s arousal hot and hard against him. Wolfram pressed back against it, and they rocked together for a couple of minutes, then Yuuri pulled away. Wolfram felt slick fingers sliding up his crease then they slipped inside him. The lubricant was cool at first but it warmed up quickly.

“Ghmm…” Wolfram moaned at the feel of Yuuri’s fingers sliding in and out repeatedly. They retreated then came back with a bigger amount of lubricant. He gripped the sheets tightly as they found his weak spot and started an assault on it. They played and rubbed against the spongy nub, his body soon starting to shake under the pleasurable pressure. Turning and burying his face in the pillow, Wolfram groaned. He was going to come if Yuuri kept this up. But then the fingers retreated.

Watching Wolfram’s hips trying to follow his retreating fingers, Yuuri reached out for the tube next to him and squeezed out a generous amount on his hand. With a few quick strokes he coated himself with it, and spreading Wolfram’s buttocks apart, he pushed inside. He felt Wolfram constricting around him then loosening again. Wolfram loved the feeling of penetration. He always savored it. Yuuri knew that penetration to them had different meanings. To Wolfram it meant to be taken by the man he loved. To Yuuri it meant submitting to the man he loved to show he trusted and accepted him. It was not as if he did not enjoy the feelings, but there still was some small unease in being taken by a man.

Wolfram shifted and leaned forward to better accommodate him. Inch by inch, Yuuri started sliding in until most of him was buried inside.

“Mmm…”

“Do you feel me?” Yuuri asked softly, while nipping at the blond’s neck.

Instead of answering, Wolfram let out a quiet moan and started to rock against him. They both kept a leisurely pace at first, then the slow rocking became more urgent, Yuuri grinding into Wolfram’s backside fervently. In this position he did not have good access and after a few more thrusts, he pulled out. Tugging at Wolfram’s waist, he got on his knees. Wolfram understood what his husband wanted right away and got on got on his hands and knees and arched his back invitingly. He grunted as he was grabbed and spread, Yuuri pushing back inside him. 

Yuuri’s hands slid over the blond’s sides to settle on Wolfram’s hips and grip them tightly. Wolfram lowered his upper half to the bedding then pressed his forehead to the pillow as Yuuri started pistoning in and out at a quick pace. With every thrust, both of them were coming closer to the edge. Yuuri was shoving in and out blindly, his thrusts having turned into short and forceful jabs, Wolfram’s hips pushed back at Yuuri to get everything he was being offered.

“I’m going to…” Wolfram gasped out. He licked his dry lips, then the right side of his face buried itself into the pillow. He tried to prolong it, but it all went to waste as Yuuri reached out to stroke him. It only took a few tugs on his member, and Wolfram’s back arched. His mouth open in a mute cry, he coated Yuuri’s fingers with his release. 

Yuuri tensed as the muscles around him constricted almost painfully. The tight heat made him grit his teeth and follow Wolfram into oblivion a few seconds later.

Spent, Yuuri sagged on top of his husband, flattening him to the bedding. Wolfram grunted at the weight. After a moment, Yuuri came back to his senses and pulled out. He reached down to gather up the discarded covers and covered them both. Usually they would have gone to the baths, but from Wolfram’s tense back muscles Yuuri could tell that the blond was experiencing some discomfort while absorbing his power.

After lying for a few minutes, Wolfram pushed the cover off and got up.

Yuuri watched his husband looking for clothes. Wolfram’s step was a bit shaky. 

“You’re leaking.”

“You think I don’t feel that?” Wolfram muttered. He looked around for something to wipe himself off. Grabbing his pajama bottoms off the floor he cleaned his thighs then tossed them back onto the carpet.

Wolfram’s face had let up on the swelling, but it still looked as if someone had whacked him with a shovel, which was actually close to what had happened. Yuuri hoped that the rumors about the culprit would have already reached everybody’s ears. 

“You okay?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah,” Wolfram nodded. “Let’s go to the baths.”

Yuuri stretched in the bed then got also got up. Something had changed, he could feel it and he had known that it would. It seemed that they were okay, but, still, there was something unspoken between them now. He was not that sure of how to act anymore. Now they would act as if there were nothing wrong. It was going to take time to get used to this. Either that or they would just drift apart.

“How about just taking a day off and going somewhere to laze about?” Yuuri suggested as they were on the way to the baths.

Wolfram grinned then winced. Shifting the change of clothes in his right hand, he touched his lower lip. “I’d like that,” he nodded, “but look outside.”

Yuuri turned his head to the window. Ah. To tell the truth, from waking up that morning his head had been preoccupied with his husband, and he hadn’t even noticed the dangerous clouds in the distance. He could feel heat wafting through the windows, but one could never know with a season like this – a few minutes later a hail might start.

“Seriously, summers in Shin Makoku are way too exciting for my taste,” Yuuri muttered.

“Your Majesty.”

Yuuri turned to look to the side where Gwendal stepped forth from a corridor. He nodded in answer.

“Wolfram, a…”

“Hmm?” Wolfram looked at his older brother questioningly as Gwendal stuttered and stopped talking altogether.

When Gwendal’s stormy eyes turned away from Wolfram’s face and set on Yuuri, the king felt rooted to the floor. 

“Your Majesty…” Gwendal ground out between clenched teeth.

“Yes?” Yuuri drawled carefully. So Gwendal was one of those who had not been informed about the accident…

Gwendal’s arm slowly rose to point at his brother’s face while his blazing eyes burned into Yuuri’s. “This?” 

“…Was done by one of my men. I was daydreaming and got whacked with a wooden sword,” Wolfram explained quickly.

Gwendal’s arm fell back to his side. “What a disgrace. Be more careful,” he muttered, turning around. Throwing the pair a quick and somewhat ashamed look, he started walking away.

“What is it that you wanted?” Wolfram called out.

“Oh, right.” Gwendal stopped. He turned around. “We have received a message from Docharo saying that they were going to arrive on Friday.”

“He and Leahir?” Wolfram wanted to specify.

“Yes,” Gwendal nodded. “Now, excuse me.” He bowed and quickly disappeared down the corridor.

“Serves him right,” Yuuri muttered, resuming walking towards the baths.

“Well, he said nothing when you punched me the first time,” Wolfram noted while following his husband. “And he kept silent after the second time. To let it go for the third time, according to his understanding, would be criminal negligence and a dereliction of duty.”

Yuuri ruffled through his hair then sighed. Really, he had been glad that nobody had interfered in their personal business, and just let them deal with the mess. The two of them were a family after all.

“You know,” Yuuri said, “after having talked to him earlier, I got a feeling that, in case we fell out, Gwendal would leave Shin Makoku and me on our own.”

“Wouldn't surprise me.”

Yuuri gave his husband a look. “And what about the duty to his country?”

“Yuuri, you do know that Gwendal was the one to raise me? And I’m sure you have noticed that our relationship is closer to that of a father and son, than…” Wolfram chuckled at the expression that appeared on Yuuri’s face. “Oh, I’m good at self-analysis.”

Yuuri turned to push at a heavy door revealing the steaming air behind it. “I didn’t think you knew…”

Wolfram shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t disturb either Gwendal or me.” 

“Maybe. But he did cry during our wedding. Wept like a baby. I’m amazed that he wasn’t the one to bring you to the altar,” Yuuri commented, while lowering his clothes onto a nearby cabinet.

“Bring me where?”

“Never mind, it’s a custom on Earth for the bri…” Yuuri stopped speaking before it was too late. He started ransacking the shelves. “Anyways, you take a day off today and rest. And make sure that everybody knows that’s not my work,” he pointed at Wolfram’s jaw. “The last thing I want is to face an enraged Kyota. I bet he would try to punch a few of my teeth out in revenge. That bastard can be scary as hell.”

Wolfram laughed softly. But despite Yuuri always presenting Kyota’s over-protectiveness as jests, the prince knew that there was bitterness and dissatisfaction hidden in them. As one could not change the situation, feigning ignorance was one of the ways out. 

The two of them went to the farthest standing benches. Contently, Yuuri let Wolfram lather then rinse his hair. It wasn’t only the feel of somebody touching and massaging his head, but for some reason Yuuri always associated Wolfram washing his hair with… He was not sure with what, but it somehow it seemed Wolfram’s tribute to him. When they went to the baths together, Wolfram always washed his hair. It rarely worked the opposite way, because Wolfram usually shoed Yuuri away, saying that he was clumsy and pulled on his hair. 

Yuuri watched Wolfram lathering his own hair. Wolfram had not used the recent attack as an excuse for an heir. Yuuri had liked that, even though he knew that it could be a valid excuse. The attack seemed to have been directed solely at Wolfram - and in case of his death, there would no one left to carry on the von Bielefelds’ family name. Whoever the attackers had been, it had been very serious. It was a rare soul that was able to easily open the gate between the worlds or use one’s elements without restrictions. Yuuri knew only of one such person – the Great Sage. Murata used to be the only one whose power he was not able to block. Now more such dangerous people appeared.

“Scrub my back instead of just staring.” 

Yuuri blinked then realized he had been staring at Wolfram for a few minutes while lost in thought. He took the sponge from Wolfram’s hand, stood up and started soaping the blond’s shoulders. Then his hand rose to the neck then slid down Wolfram’s back. When Yuuri’s concentration lasted irrationally long on lathering his buttocks, Wolfram knew that Yuuri wanted to prolong their morning of reconciliation. He stood up from the bench.

“Let’s make sure you wash it well,” Yuuri muttered brushing over the crack with the sponge. He pushed forward with his hand on Wolfram’s back to make Wolfram bend over and place his palms on the bench.

The sponge was soon abandoned, and Wolfram’s back arched as he felt Yuuri’s fingers slip in between his cheeks then into him. They were sliding in and out easily, the blond’s muscles still relaxed, the lubricant now mixed with Yuuri’s seed inside him.

Wolfram moaned softly as Yuuri started massaging his prostate, the spongy nub making his body heat up quickly in response. Yuuri’s fingers were picking up the pace, and the blond’s breathing soon turned into pants. Feeling the digits slipping out of him, Wolfram licked his dry lips.

“Yuuri, c’mon,” he said while impatiently rubbing his backside against Yuuri’s hard front.

Yuuri held him by his hips then started pushing inside. Wolfram’s eyelids slid shut, and he moaned softly. It was sliding in not as easily as in the morning, but a little more friction was also welcome.

Wolfram lowered his head as Yuuri started thrusting. The thrusts were shallow at first, Yuuri careful and giving him time to get used to him. Then they gained speed, making Wolfram’s entire body rock, and the blond had to brace himself more firmly, so that Yuuri would not just shove him over the bench. The blond liked the roughness, his backside pushing back to meet all of his husband’s savage lust. Yuuri’s hands were having trouble with holding onto the blond’s waist and hips, his skin being slick with sweat, vapor and soap. 

Quick pants and grunts pervaded the baths, the slaps of flesh against flesh being the clearest sound. Grinding into the blond in a frenzy, just seconds before coming, Yuuri was assured of one thing – sex was as good as ever and it was better not to think about anything else.

Spent and sated, Wolfram sagged onto the bench, lying down on his back to catch his breath. Yuuri sat down near Wolfram’s head then pulled his husband up so that the blond head rested on his thigh. Yuuri was sure that they would somehow survive this.

TBC


	7. Part 7

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 7

Over the table, Yuuri watched his husband who was barely keeping himself from moaning around a spoonful of hot chocolate. From Earth, Yuuri had brought a few boxes with packets of a prepared mixture that needed only to have hot milk poured over it. He liked spoiling Wolfram, maybe too much.

Yuuri lowered his eyes to the meal on his plate which consisted of a kipper and salad. In the end…in the end it all had turned out just as Wolfram wanted - he gave in and let Wolfram do as he wished. Why was it, in the end, it was Wolfram who always had the upper hand?

Chewing on his kipper, Yuuri tried to push these thoughts away. Two rounds of sex had been good, but now he was weary, the fatigue overcoming his optimism. He was full of resentment, wondering why he was the one to always back down. He understood, he knew perfectly well that Wolfram never meant to hurt or run roughshod over him but still, deep in his throat, there was a bile made up of bitterness which, this time, refused to be swallowed.

Yuuri raised his head and met emerald eyes staring right at him. Of course... of course, his husband was able to sense what was going on in his head. There was a flash of worry before that overwhelming greenness concentrated back on the dessert. Wolfram did not say anything.

There was no real tension now, over the table. There was just some mutual agreement that things were different and that it would take time for the dust to settle. For now, Wolfram would just listen to any reproaches or accusations without protesting. This wasn't good either. Guilt and bitterness were going to drive them apart. They had to find a way to prevent this. But many changes were still on the way, and Yuuri did not know how to prepare for them, much less how he was going to deal with them.

They finished eating in silence. Everybody else had had their meal long ago.

“Make sure I won't see Kyota's face,” Yuuri said before pushing himself away from the table and rising.

There was a stunned pause, then Wolfram nodded. “Whatever you say.”

As soon as the door closed behind his husband's back, the blond grabbed the open bottle of wine off the table and poured himself a glassful. Draining it in two gulps, he put the glass down and reached for the bottle again.

“Your Highness?”

“What?” Wolfram snapped at the servant who had silently appeared at his side.

“His Majesty ordered us to make sure…”

Wolfram stared at the bottle in shock then raised his head to look at the man who was giving his hand on the bottle a meaningful look. The blond's fingers slipped off the bottleneck. He cursed to himself.

The servant's gaze was shifting from apologetic to firm. It was obvious that the man was very uncomfortable, but was determined to follow his king's commands. Wolfram stared at him. Losing his composure, his self control to fight with a servant over a bottle of wine would be pointless and humiliate him even further. It would also go against his husband's orders.

Wolfram slowly stood up and went to the door.

XXXXX

“Couldn't you just have told me?” Wolfram asked Yuuri.

The rest of the day had passed without anything out of the ordinary happening and they already were in their bedroom, getting ready for sleep.

Yuuri couldn't miss the poorly concealed anger in his husband's voice. “I've already told you, but it didn't seem to get to you,” Yuuri said without turning around from the wardrobe. “We used to have an alcoholic neighbor, Wolfram. There is no way I'm letting it happen to you.”

From the bed where he was sitting, Wolfram stared at his husband's back for a few seconds then just lay down. Turning over onto his stomach, he slipped under the covers without commenting on Yuuri's words. Even if it was for his own good, there was that tone of determination and a clear threat in them too. If he did not stop on his own, Yuuri was going to make sure he did. And he knew his husband could be ruthless in matters like these.

Wolfram heard Yuuri approaching the bed, then the mattress dipped. Yuuri's arm slid around his shoulders then his lips gave a soft peck to Wolfram's nape.

“Goodnight, Wolfram.”

“Yeah, good night,” Wolfram muttered.

XXXXX

Wolfram looked at himself in the mirror. With his fingers, he traced over his lower lip. The swelling had gone down, but there was still some unusual purple color from the bruising and a visible gash in the middle, but he was somewhat presentable now. Well, if he did not smile.

Wolfram grinned at the mirror and mentally groaned at the comical sight it presented. The tissue had already healed and it did not hurt eating anymore but still…he looked horrible with two teeth missing.

Kyota was going to tease him to death.

Wolfram turned away from the mirror, grabbed his jacket off the chair and went to the door. The prince climbed downstairs then turned into the kitchen. There was no point in going to the dining-room. He had slept in for so long that it was almost noon already. Yuuri must have done a healing on him before leaving their bedroom, which would explain his sleeping like a log.

This was his last day off. He would have preferred to spend it doing something more fulfilling than yesterday, but with the lower half of his face still sore he had to pass up any intense physical exercises like horse riding, sparring or running.

Wolfram was just finishing his breakfast when the door into the kitchen swung open and Kyota swept in. The blue-haired man pulled the startled prince out of his seat, wrapping him up in a hug, and, without noticing the toast he had been holding in his left hand, squeezed tightly. He then let go and sat down at the other side of the table.

“Hello, asshole,” Wolfram said in greeting, wiping jam off his uniform and dropping back down into his chair. “You are a walking disaster.”

Kyota eyed the blond's spoiled uniform then looked at himself. “Ah, shit,” he cursed. He reached for a napkin and started cleaning his shirt. Luckily, he had already taken off his jacket and left it somewhere…he wasn't sure where.

“So is this late breakfast or early lunch?” Kyota asked, throwing the dirty napkin back onto the table. He brushed the ends of his tied hair off his shoulder. “I'll have to borrow something from your wardrobe.”

“It's breakfast. And don't tell me you didn't bring anything to change into?” Wolfram asked, taking a bite of his mutilated toast and chewing very carefully. He reached for his mug.

“I did, but I'd do it to just piss your husband off.”

Wolfram chortled into his tea, almost spraying it around.

“You sure look hot with two teeth missing.”

“It's not Yuuri's doing,” Wolfram defended his husband immediately.

“I know, but it still pisses me off!”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. He lowered the mug to the table then clapped his hands to clean the bread crumbs off his hands.

“I was worried, you know,” Kyota said.

Wolfram nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“So how are things?”

Wolfram leaned back into the chair. “Well, they are better than I anticipated, but it still...” the blond shook his head. “It's such a mess.”

“Well, you know who to turn to if he dumps you,” Kyota grinned at him.

“Gods, will you quit blabbering? By the way, how are you and Leahir?”

Kyota frowned. “He doesn't let me anywhere near him. I've already gotten a week of the silence treatment. And no sex. Again.”

Wolfram groaned inwardly - another spat. Well, hearing about it was still better than talking to Kyota about his and Yuuri's problems.

“Listen, Wolfram. Why is it that instead of just saying what's wrong, the guy walks around tight-assed like a damn moron?”

“I don't know.” Wolfram rubbed his forehead and begged whatever gods there were that Kyota wouldn't think about involving him in the discussion. With Kyota and Leahir it was pointless. The two were an idiot couple, just fuckbuddies, always getting into spats over silly things.

“He could just say what's wrong, I'd apologize and that would be it. Now the entire week I've been trying to figure out what the hell I did to him!” Kyota said angrily.

Wolfram groaned loudly. Sure, now Kyota would want him to talk with Leahir and clear up things between them. “Kyota, no.”

“Oh, c'mon,” Kyota threw his hands up. “Why not?”

“Well, because of numerous reasons. First,” Wolfram bent his thumb, “I'm the Prince Consort. Second,” he bent down his index finger, “it's not my business at all. Third, I'd feel stupid. Fourth,” he bent another finger, “he would feel stupid. Fifth,” he raised his closed hand before Kyota's face, “you'd look like an idiot in his eyes.”

“He thinks I'm an idiot anyway,” Kyota waved this off. “C'mon, talk to him. You two have talked more than a few times already.”

Wolfram groaned again. He understood what Kyota was doing, but he doubted it would help him forget his troubles. He hated getting involved in these kinds of things. Kyota knew that!

XXXXX

Wolfram had no idea how he had allowed it to happen, but that evening he found himself sitting in his study with Leahir Sandel standing in front of him. The man seemed to be thoroughly confused as to why he had been called there. Wolfram was thinking that it wouldn't be all that bad if some random bolt of lightning struck the Castle, and he would be saved from this awkward situation.

Leahir bowed. “Your Highness?”

Wolfram cast his eyes over the other male. Leahir was wearing a bright red jacket, leather trousers and had an impressive two-handed sword on his back that was almost as long as the man was tall. And Sandel was really tall, tall and lean. His face and shoulders were framed by loose, thick brown-colored hair. He had an oval face with quite high cheekbones and thin lips, but his big blue eyes that were ringed with dark eyelashes were the most memorable. Leahir was an attractive man, when he wore men's clothes (like today). But in Wolfram's opinion, Leahir was an even more attractive woman (like the previous time he had visited). Actually, he never dwelled on Kyota's tastes too much and didn't really care who he was fucking. Sandel did not seem to be a person who would care about an outsider's opinion either. Not that many outsiders would dare express his humble opinion to a man who was carrying a huge bad-assed sword on his back.

“Kyota said you…well, that you are cold to him.”

Leahir blinked hard a few times. Wolfram fought down an embarrassed blush and wanted the ground to open and swallow him.

Sandel stared at the prince with his deep blue eyes for half a minute then rolled his right shoulder which was his version of a shrug. Wolfram knew Sandel was wondering what fucking business it was of his.

The pause was getting ridiculously long. Wolfram shifted uncomfortably, thinking about tearing Kyota's head off for getting him into this idiotic situation. He couldn't believe that he was sticking his nose into a lover's spat.

“I caught him fucking one of my maids,” Leahir said then in a clear voice. “Do I need to submit a formal report on this, Your Highness?”

“Shiiiiit,” Wolfram drawled, leaning on the desk. Deciding to just accept the sneer as deserved, he rubbed his forehead. Unbelievable. And Kyota was wondering why Leahir was ignoring him…? After a certain thought occurred to him, he raised his head to look at the frowning man. “I suppose he doesn't know that you saw him…?”

Leahir snorted. “Well, I didn't march into the room to demand he stop orgasming, if it's what Your Highness means.”

Really, the two were well-matched. Wolfram covered his face with his hands as the vision of Kyota doing Leahir's maid appeared inside his head. Leahir seemed to be as subtle as Kyota himself. And Kyota must have known it would turn out to be something like this.

“Your relationship…”

“He can fuck whoever he wishes,” Leahir interrupted, “but my maids… Goddamit,” he snarled, “I told him at least three times that my maids are off limits! My castle is not a slut-house!”

Wolfram stared at him then forced a smile. Then he realized that with two teeth missing he must look idiotic and stopped smiling. Leahir was already looking at him as if he were the biggest idiot in the world. Wolfram was sure he was going to punch Kyota at least once for this.

“I'm certain it will be solved, and you'll make up,” the prince said finally. He would have preferred to just keep silent, but he had to show somehow that this unprecedented conversation was finished.

“Is this a royal command?” Leahir politely inquired.

At his sides, Wolfram's fingers curled, imagining that they were wrapping around Kyota's throat. The bastard was dead, the bastard was so dead. “No, it isn't.”

Leahir bowed. “Your Highness.” Sandel seemed to want to add something more but then decided against it. With an enigmatic smile playing on his lips, he left the study.

Wolfram figured that now Leahir was headed to wherever Kyota was. Five minutes later an explosion shook the Castle. Wolfram thought he also heard Kyota shouting for help. He hoped that Sandel had run him through with that sword of his.

XXXXX

Due to Kyota and Leahir being forced to clean and repair the outer castle wall, Wolfram was saved from trying to keep Kyota away from Yuuri. A disjointed thought passed the prince's head that maybe Kyota had known that Yuuri did not want to see his face, so instead of joining them in the dining-room for dinner, had made himself busy. But probably, this was too much to expect from Kyota.

The dining-room was almost deserted, with only Conrad, Gunter, Yuuri, Wolfram and a couple of servants present. Cecilie was still on her trip, Gisela away on a difficult case of poisoning in the city, and Gwendal and Anissina most likely were experimenting. Although Wolfram suspected that the experiment was transpiring somewhere in Anissina's or Gwendal's bedroom.

“So they got into a fight?” Yuuri asked. He was cutting the chicken on his plate into small pieces.

Wolfram nodded. He sipped his apple juice. Was it his imagination or had Yuuri just glanced at his glass to make sure what he was drinking was non-alcoholic?

“Why?”

Wolfram pursed his lips while debating with himself. “Because Kyota asked me to talk to Leahir and find out why Leahir has been refusing him sex for an entire week.”

Yuuri's eyes rose off the plate. “Don't tell me you really talked to him…?”

Wishing that instead of the juice there was something much stronger in his glass to wash his shame away, Wolfram nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

Yuuri chortled. “And Leahir didn't like it.”

Wolfram frowned at his plate. “He sure the hell didn't. Neither did I.” He racked through the salad on his plate with the spork. He had no real appetite lately. “I felt like a complete idiot.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Well, you WERE,” he stressed, “an idiot agreeing to that.”

Wolfram pushed his salad to the right side of the plate. “Well, they will fight first, but fuck later, so one way or another it worked.” He drove the salad to the left side of the plate then lifted his spork to nibble on it.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “True,” he said. He eyed his husband's maneuvers on the plate - now the blond was regrouping the salad in two squads, dispatching each of them to different sides of the dish. “Wolfram, you either eat that or leave it alone.” It seemed that the blond had just launched a successful attack on the cutlet; although it did not appear to be resisting too much.

“Huh?”

“The salad, Wolfram, the salad.”

“Oh.” Wolfram blinked at his plate. He put the spork down onto the table.

Wolfram felt tired. The day seemed to have passed without his working hard or stressing too much, but he was drained.

Wolfram waited for his husband to finish dining, then excused himself and went to the baths. He spent more than an hour there and came out refreshed and with a somewhat lifted mood. While walking to the royal chambers his thoughts flew towards tomorrow's agenda. There was a meeting to decide what position Shin Makoku was going to take regarding Kalara attacking Doesha. Yuuri was going to be in favor of Doesha, so the meeting should be over pretty soon. But then he had to meet with representatives from Sehar, Lumina and Ferir and agree on exporting and importing various goods and merchandise. Wolfram was sure that the debates and discussions were going to last at least a few weeks. As usual, Yuuri would be present in the first meeting, maybe even in the second but then he would entrust the entire matter to him and Gunter.

Wolfram had already climbed upstairs and was walking down the corridor when he heard loud voices behind the door that he was passing.

“Will you fucking shut up?!”

It was Kyota's voice, and Wolfram's step slowed down automatically.

“You don't know what you want, Kyota! I don't care about being someone's replacement, but don't you dare ignore me, you asshole!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You perfectly know what I'm talking about. Just out of curiosity, whose place am I taking, Kyota?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about!”

But the protest was weak, the voice cracking at the end of the sentence. Kyota sounded tired. But it was not clear whether he thought it was pointless arguing with Leahir or he knew that the other male was right. Leahir was saying something again, but Wolfram was already out of earshot and he could not make out the words.

Yuuri was already in bed when Wolfram entered their chambers. There were only a few burning candles left, the bedroom drowning in half-light. A window was slightly open to air the room. Yuuri had been reading in bed, propped up against the headboard, his back supported by pillows. But as the hour grew late, while he waited for Wolfram, Yuuri grew sleepy and set the papers on the nightstand, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. Hearing his husband enter, Yuuri's eyes opened to give the blond a short look then closed again. Wolfram undressed, folded his clothes and put them neatly onto the chair that was standing next to the bed. Pulling a pair of pajamas out of the wardrobe, he pulled them on then turned to the bed. He slipped under the covers then slid onto Yuuri's lap, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and snuggling into his chest. Yuuri blinked at the damp head that had just come to rest against his shoulder. He reached out to stroke the mop of that blond hair. Wolfram sometimes got like this. It was a rare occurrence, but when it happened, instead of making Yuuri feel stronger and superior as he always wished it would, it made Yuuri uneasy.

“Did something happen?” the king asked, keeping his voice soft.

Wolfram shook his head slightly. “No, not really.”

Wolfram's pajama top rumpled when Yuuri wrapped one arm around the prince's sides. Yuuri put his chin on the blond's head. He sighed. “Why are you always lying, Wolfram?”

Wolfram shifted against him in protest. “I'm not lying. I was walking past Kyota and Leahir's room and they were having a row. It was nasty.”

Yuuri listened silently. His fingers were threading through the still damp hair. So hearing the spat had made Wolfram panicky, it seemed. Recently both of them had been apprehensive. Neither of them wanted to lose what they had. They tried to hold onto it with tooth and nail.

For a few minutes it was silent in the bedroom.

“Anything I can do to improve your mood?” Yuuri mentally snickered at the way corny and seemingly insensible words breached the silence. But Wolfram was used to his quite clumsy tries to make things better.

“You can try,” he said.

Yuuri lifted Wolfram's head to look at his face. From up close Yuuri could see that the blond's lower lip was still unnaturally full. It was also bluish, the healing gash in the middle of it looking painful. The chin had almost healed, though. It was amazing how fast a full-blooded Mazoku could heal.

The green emeralds were studying Yuuri back then closed when he leaned in. Kissing the corner of Wolfram's lips, Yuuri felt him flinch. He put his head back onto the pillow and let go of Wolfram's chin.

“Sorry.”

Wolfram said nothing. He tried to smile but then seemed to remember that he was missing two teeth and closed his mouth.

Yuuri felt a streak of amused warmth pass through his body at the thought of Wolfram worrying about appearing unattractive to him. Chuckling, he leaned in to kiss the blond's nose. Weren't the two of them just like foolish teens now? Quite content with the thought, Yuuri transferred his kisses to Wolfram's cheek and forehead. Later his lips slid down to his husband's neck. Wolfram hummed contentedly and rolled his head to the side to bare more skin.

Yuuri's hand slid under Wolfram's shirt. The pajama top was quite loose and his palm easily reached his husband's chest. His fingers rolled the nub they found there between them. A quiet moan told him that his attention had been appreciated. Yuuri's palm slid down the blond's chest then over his ribs and to his waist then started sliding upwards again. The blond raised himself a little and now was watching him with half-lidded eyes, his one hand resting on Yuuri's stomach, another on the bed, supporting his weight.

Yuuri tweaked the nipple underneath his palm. The blond gasped, his body jolting, the head jerking sideways, the eye contact breaking.

Yuuri pushed with his palm at the blond's chest, and soon had Wolfram straddling his waist. Yuuri undertook the task of getting Wolfram's pajama shirt off him. With the small buttons it was progressing slowly. With growing hunger in his eyes, Wolfram was watching his husband's fingers working. He waited patiently until Yuuri was done then let him brush the top off his shoulders and allowed it to slide down his arms, to pool behind him on Yuuri's groin.

“Is it my turn now?” Wolfram grinned, his fingers starting to fumble with Yuuri's top. He sometimes wondered why they bothered to wear pajamas at all.

From the bed, Yuuri gave his husband an answering smirk. His hands slid to Wolfram's hips to squeeze them through the pants. In a moment, Wolfram was finally done with the shirt, and Yuuri's bare chest was displayed.

“Come here.”

Yuuri's voice was husky as he took hold of Wolfram's waist, tugging on him. His husband bent forward, and Yuuri's hands glided up his back and then to his shoulders and nape, keeping him in place while he was kissing the blond's chest then his neck and shoulders. Closing his eyes, Wolfram savored the warmth of Yuuri's skin against his, as he slid down Yuuri's body, until he could buck his hips forward, pressing their growing erections together. Grinding, he sighed in pleasure while Yuuri nibbled on the column of his neck.

Yuuri let go of the blond, and he sat up straight again. Yuuri slid his hands down Wolfram's back, then past the waistband and into the pants to take a firm hold of his backside. He liked how the firm curves felt in his palms.

“You will ruin it,” Wolfram muttered, wondering how far the elastic of his pants was able to stretch.

“Take them off, then, will you?” Yuuri answered, squeezing harder. He let go of the round flesh to push the pants down the blond's hips.

Wolfram rose, slipped off the bed and took the pants off quickly. As usual, he wore no underwear and his aroused member bobbed when freed. Letting his clothes slip to the ground, the blond ransacked through the drawers of the bedside cabinet. Finding the needed tube, he tossed it on the bed beside Yuuri. After that, back on the bed, Wolfram got on all fours and crawled over his husband. Yuuri lifted his hips to ease Wolfram's task of pulling his pants off, then his underwear.

“Much, much better,” Yuuri purred when Wolfram tossed his pajama pants and underwear aside and climbed back to him.

Yuuri's palms glided over the blond's chest, then over his ribcage while caressing the smooth skin on their path. His hands settled on the blond's hips, then slipped down in between his cheeks. Instinctively, Wolfram leaned forward to give him more access. He moaned softly as Yuuri's fingers flicked over his opening.

Yuuri let go of Wolfram's hips to take the tube of lubricant and squeeze some of it onto his fingers. His hand returned to the blond's crease to rub against the entrance. Every light stroke that passed Wolfram's opening was measured to press against it with teasing calculation. Wanting for the fingers to finally breach him, Wolfram spread his legs more. He reared back, but then the fingers retreated to offer only light pressure.

“Yuuri,” Wolfram whined.

“Do you really want it?” Yuuri pressed his index finger forward so that the tip breached the blond. “Do you want them up your ass? Do you want them fucking you?”

Wolfram watched his husband from under heavy eyelashes. He licked his lips. “Yes, I do,” he gave a slight nod. He did not particularly like it when Yuuri dirty-talked this way. But it always seemed to have the effect that Yuuri wanted - the embarrassment made him even more aroused, and Yuuri loved seeing him in this state. On the other hand, keeping in mind that he and Yuuri had spent so much time together, and that he trusted Yuuri, Wolfram was not sure why he felt embarrassed at all. It was probably one of the tricks that Yuuri used.

Wolfram's eyes closed at the feel of Yuuri's fingers sliding into him. The in and out motions were pleasurable, and the blond rocked with the rhythm. He shifted his hips and moaned softly as the fingers started brushing against his prostate.

Yuuri pulled his fingers out. He reached for the tube again to squeeze out a generous amount of lube. Wolfram slid down his legs to allow his husband to coat himself with it, which he did not taking his eyes off Wolfram. Reaching out for the blond, Yuuri drew him closer then tugged him up. Wolfram raised himself to help guide Yuuri's cock inside of him. It went in smoothly, stretching him as it entered.

Yuuri stayed still to let Wolfram adjust then tried to move his hips up. The blond allowed him, but not all the way. In this pose it was always Wolfram who had control. He wanted Wolfram to move faster, but the blond seemed to want to prolong this. Wolfram was teasing him, his ups and downs slow, drawn out. Yuuri watched Wolfram's member moving up and down. He reached out for it but his hand was brushed away.

Wolfram gasped then laughed as he was raised and flung onto the bedding with a soft thump. The bed bounced, and he hardly had time to get onto his hands and knees before his hips were grabbed and he felt the tip pressing in. Yuuri pushed into his relaxed passage with one smooth thrust.

Both of them liked this position much better. Wolfram because this way his prostate was stimulated much more. Besides, he loved to feel Yuuri's sacks thumping against his backside. Yuuri liked this position because he felt in command of every thrust, controlling when and how his husband came.

Wolfram's low pleasure-filled moans answered every successful roll of Yuuri's hips. With every thrust, the pace was increasing, the grip on hips tightening. Wolfram could hear Yuuri grunting. Wolfram's lust clouded mind wondered if Yuuri knew that when he was halfway to his orgasm, he would always start making those funny hitching sounds that were between stuttering and moaning. Nearing orgasm, the “stuttering” would turn into choking gasps then finally, into one low desperate grunt or gasp when Yuuri finished.

The numbing pleasure that was spreading from his ass and cock was making his own breathing difficult. With a low moan, Wolfram spread his thighs even wider and arched his back, then buried his forehead in the pillow. He had never asked, and they didn't really talk about these kinds of things, but sometimes, afterwards, he wondered how all of this looked to Yuuri. Gasping, Wolfram squeezed his eyes shut as Yuuri's hand snuck around his waist to stroke his leaking cock. Screw that. Gods, yes, it was amazing. Sex was the greatest invention ever!

Yuuri's pounding was increasing and through the blood beating in his ears he could discern Yuuri's gasps getting shorter.

Wolfram blinked his eyes open as he felt Yuuri slip out of him completely. He turned to look at what was going on but, then his waist was seized. Understanding what his husband wanted, Wolfram let himself be turned to his side and then onto his back. Yuuri slid his body over Wolfram's. Their skins were feverish, covered with a light sheen of perspiration.

Wolfram could see that Yuuri intended a little kissing session to draw out the pleasure, but had forgotten that his mouth was injured. Yuuri ended up kissing down his neck, then applying pressure with his teeth on Wolfram's Adam apple. He grazed there for a minute, then went on to bite Wolfram's right earlobe.

“Yuuri!” the prince gasped.

Yuuri sucked on the earlobe again. This was one of Wolfram's erogenous zones. Actually Wolfram's ears were more sensitive than his nipples. He could feel a rising desperation in Wolfram's tries to rub his leaking member against him to get at least some friction. It was futile, his body had Wolfram pressed underneath him, leaving no room for movement. All Wolfram could do was wrap his legs around Yuuri's hips, which he did after a minute of Yuuri sucking on and teasing his earlobes.

“Yuuri, quit it,” Wolfram panted out. He turned his head to the side, but it did not help any as his husband attacked his left earlobe.

Yuuri didn't see any reason to stop. He could feel Wolfram solid and throbbing against him, but he knew the blond could take much more. He caressed Wolfram's sides and sucked on the blond's neck. Wolfram's arms were wrapped around Yuuri's shoulders, his fingers gripping Yuuri's hair in silent urge. Yuuri teased him some more then, slowly, he slid back into the welcoming tightness.

Wolfram let out an appreciative sound and his head fell back to the pillow with a soft thud. At first, Yuuri's thrusts were even and measured, but he seemed to have reached the limit himself and he was picking up his pace very fast. Not wanting Wolfram to lag behind, Yuuri wrapped his hand around the blond's neglected erection. The burning lust that that the blond felt before came back full force, making the blood in his ears pound with Yuuri's every thrust and stroke.

Moaning and grunting and gasping, they meshed into a sweaty mass of limbs that wanted only to finally reach the peak. Wolfram tensed as the increased pressure suddenly erupted. His back arched, his body rising from the bedding, his head falling back.

Wolfram's legs squeezed around Yuuri's waist and he clamped down on Yuuri almost painfully, the constriction around him hardly allowing Yuuri any movement. But it was also the end of him, Wolfram's orgasm overtaking Yuuri too, he pushing in as far as he could go and releasing in multiple quick spurts inside the blond.

Panting, Yuuri lowered his head to Wolfram's shoulder. His body and mind still were in that pleasurable bliss and he nuzzled the blond's neck almost purring. When, after a few minutes, he raised his head to look at Wolfram, he was met with closed eyes and the expression of pure pleasure. Wolfram's orgasms and afterglows lasted much longer than his own. After good sex Wolfram always was like that, sometimes taking up to ten minutes to come back to his senses. After living together for as long as they had, he still had not figured out if it was Wolfram or if all full-blooded Mazoku were like this. He doubted if, due to the lack of sexual encounters, Wolfram knew either.

Yuuri moved to pull out of Wolfram. All of him was slippery.

“Wouldn't it be perfect if you could get pregnant?” he asked while drawing circles on Wolfram's stomach in his cooling semen.

Wolfram's blurry eyes opened to give Yuuri a confused look, then closed again.

“Idiot,” Wolfram said after a minute, when his brain finally caught up.

XXXXX

The morning came rather quickly and went past uneventfully. The afternoon was pretty much the same, although it seemed much longer. After spending the entire day with various merchants and politicians, Yuuri and Wolfram were tired and frustrated as the negotiations weren't progressing very smoothly.

Despite that, Yuuri's anger had let up and he told Wolfram Kyota could join them for lunch.

During lunch the Great Sage had announced Shori's oncoming visit. When the royal couple entered the dining-room for their dinner, they found the King of Earth already seated and waiting for them to join him at the table.

The mood was somewhat uneasy and shy, and it was only Shori who was talking. He shared the latest events from Earth. Talked about rising food and oil prices, his new girlfriend and more. Gunter listened to everything with interest; Leahir and Kyota did not understand much from what had been said about the Earth's oil supplies; Wolfram wasn't particularly interested, but was glad that there was someone talking instead of silence reigning in the dining room as earlier. Yuuri was happy, and at the same time apprehensive, that his brother had come.

After dinner, Yuuri led Shori to his study. While his brother was getting comfortable in the offered armchair, Yuuri went to the cupboard to retrieve drinks. Finally, when the two of them had their filled glasses in their hands and Yuuri was sitting behind his desk, Shori asked:

“Is it true that the von Bielefelds are looking for an Entrusted lady?”

“Yes,” Yuuri nodded. He took a sip from his wineglass. “Namely, Wolfram.”

Shori studied Yuuri for a few moments then also raised his glass to his lips. “Are you alright with this?” he asked after swallowing.

“Who the fuck in his right mind would be alright with this?” Yuuri snorted at him. “I have no choice. It's either this or let him go. And I can't imagine my life without him.” He gulped from his glass. “You are asking if I am alright with this?” Yuuri repeated Shori's words. “There is no fucking way I am alright with this! I already hate that woman and I already can't stand that child!”

Shori watched his brother through the rim of his wineglass. He wondered if Yuuri believed what he was saying or it was induced by the wine that he had drunk during dinner. Shori sighed. “If you feel like this, wouldn't it be just better if you let go of him?”

“I'm not going to let him go!” Yuuri declared then, quite vehemently. “Wolfram is mine! And no damn whore is going to take him away from me.”

That made Shori smile. “It's not really like that. Murata said it's an old tradition and…”

“Oh, shut up. You think I don't know that?” Yuuri muttered, sipping from his glass again. “I know all of that. It's just driving me crazy. When I think about him and that woman…”

“What about a threesome?”

Yuuri suddenly looked ready to throw his glass at him, and Shori understood that his remark was uncalled for. His brother was not ready for these kinds of jokes.

“Alright…” Shori drawled. He knew the situation - Murata had informed him beforehand. He had just wanted to see Yuuri's true feelings on this entire thing. Wolfram was a selfish creature and he had pitted a few weeks with Yuuri against Yuuri's anger. On the other hand, there was no way Yuuri would have accepted the situation calmly, even if Wolfram had told him in advance. Maybe Wolfram wouldn't have received those punches, but it all would have gone pretty much the same. Maybe even with a longer period of indecision. The way Wolfram had done it made Yuuri realize that it was serious and unavoidable. He had forced Yuuri to take immediate action. Yuuri gave his answer in less than a week.

“What are you thinking about?”

Shori raised his head to look at his brother. “Nothing much,” he shook his head.

“This was the first time when I wanted to do something really bad to him,” Yuuri said, frowning, and Shori wondered if his brother was reading his mind. “It's not going to be easy,” Yuuri added the obvious. He emptied his glass and stood up to go refill it.

“What about your own child, then?” Shori asked. “You've always wanted one. Wouldn't it be much easier now?”

Yuuri snorted. “Our relationship is hanging by a thread now. It's like an overflowing glass,” he lifted his own to demonstrate. “Our emotions are barely managing to keep from spilling over. Me getting some random whore would just overfill it and make a perfect end for it all.”

Shori nodded, agreeing. Nonetheless, some time later, when dust settled, very likely, Yuuri was going to consider this once again.

TBC


	8. Part 8

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 8

The sun was high in the sky, the clouds nowhere to be seen. Shielding his eyes, Leahir Sandel cast a glance at the azure above his head. The yellow, pulsing orb glared back at him, and the man lost all hope that the heat would let up anytime soon. Sighing, he unclasped the leather strap that was holding the sword on his back and propped it against the wall of the stable building. After the weight was gone, he stretched and leaned against the wall, next to his sword. There were many other men in the yard, standing here and there, and leaning against the same wall that he was. After looking around, Leahir counted about thirty soldiers wearing varicolored uniforms. The sweating soldiers, just as he was, were watching the dueling men in the middle of the yard. With a loud yawn, Leahir’s attention went back to the Prince Consort and his childhood friend.

Wolfram parried Kyota’s attack, and their wooden swords clashed in wild fury. The two of them strained against each other, trying to push the other back. Gritting their teeth and panting, they did not want to give up even a millimeter of the dusty ground. Kyota was stronger and soon began overwhelming the blond. He gave the prince a strained grin and pushed harder. The smirk turned into a surprised grunt as Wolfram twisted aside abruptly, making Kyota’s blade slide over his. The blond dropped to the ground, landing on his side, and Kyota lurched forward, off balance, when suddenly faced with no resistance; his body too slow to react. Rolling and kicking Kyota’s left leg from under him, Wolfram quickly stood above Kyota, the tip of his sword making a small dent in the soft tissue of his blue-haired friend’s neck.

Leahir rolled his eyes. Kyota really sucked at swordplay.

His eyes watering from the dispersing dust around him, Kyota stared up at the prince, then, admitting defeat, let his body relax. As soon as his head and arms dropped to the dirty ground, the pressure of the sword-tip at his neck disappeared. Kyota took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet. He stuck his wooden sword into the ground and just stood like that, panting, trying to get his breath back. After a minute he started dusting his uniform off.

Wolfram watched his friend becoming more presentable then motioned with his head in Leahir’s direction. “Is he any good at swordplay?”

With his eyes, Kyota followed the direction Wolfram indicated, glancing toward the stable wall where about five men stood. “Who? Leahir? Well, he’s better than me,” he said. “But his specialty is two-handed swords.”

“One can’t be good with two-handed swords without being good with one,” Wolfram muttered.

“True,” Kyota agreed. “Want to try him?”

Wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand, the prince shook his head. “Not today. This heat is going to kill me.”

Kyota lifted his head then squinted as the sun hit his eyes. “Indeed.”

“So... did you get sex in the end?”

A little startled at the sudden change in topic, Kyota looked at Wolfram who was also leaning on his wooden sword and watching him with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“Yeah, I did,” Kyota nodded. He waited for the blond to say something, but he was silent. Kyota suspected he knew what might have caused this. “Do you always sneak around behind closed doors?” he asked.

His friend chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I do. But this time I didn’t even need to – you two were shouting so loudly that it nearly burst my eardrums.” Wolfram sighed. “It’s not my place to preach to you, but seriously, Kyota, he won’t come back.”

“Yeah,” Kyota muttered.

Wolfram cast a glance at the other side of the training area, at the man wearing Wolfram’s own colors, who was sitting on the ground, near the far wall, watching him and Kyota sparring. He had spoken with the soldier and assured him that no grudge was held for what had happened. Nevertheless, it seemed that he had not convinced the soldier. Apparently he still believed that the prince was harboring intentions of revenge. The soldier was afraid that he might be humiliated in his comrades’ eyes or demoted in rank. If anyone had asked Wolfram, he would have said that if he were angry, he would have shipped him away from the Castle on the day of the accident. Another thing Wolfram would have said if anyone had asked him, would have been that instead of demotion, he would have awarded the man a medal for causing all that tension between him and his husband to dissolve. Wolfram would agree to be whacked in the face again if that improved his and Yuuri’s relationship.

Wolfram still hadn’t resumed his search for an appropriate woman. He was waiting for his face to heal. Women reacted quite sensitively to bruises and missing teeth, and he did not want to give the impression of a brainless brute, which might lead to a rocky start of what would be a long relationship. It would take an additional month and a half for the teeth to grow back, but he didn't want to waste any time. He wanted to be done with this as soon as possible.

“Your Highness?”

Wolfram and Kyota turned to see Gwendal’s Lieutenant General appear.

“What is it?” Wolfram asked.

The soldier came up to Wolfram then bowed. “His Majesty orders Your Highness to join the forces in the west of Shin Makoku. There’s a group of Mazoku raiders carrying out attacks against Humans and…”

“I know the situation,” Wolfram interrupted him with an abrupt wave of his left hand. “Why am I needed there?”

The Lieutenant General bowed once again. “Yesterday night, our squad was attacked. They barely managed to defend themselves and experienced great losses, including their First-in-Command. A new squad is going to be dispatched within a few hours.”

Wolfram nodded. “Alright.” He turned toward those of his men that were lounging around. “Shardan, Juhen and Marin, you three are coming with me. And someone find Wasdan. Tell him to get to my study immediately.” He turned back to the Lieutenant General. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the man nodded. “The maps are ready. I’ll explain the details once we get to the study.”

“Wolfram…”

Wolfram made an abrupt motion with his hand then threw his wooden sword for Kyota to catch. “Dismissed.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Kyota gave a reluctant nod.

Wolfram ignored Kyota’s frustrated expression and followed the Lieutenant General. He still had no idea why he was needed in those backwater villages. Unless Yuuri felt that sending Gwendal’s Lieutenant General to end those attacks would be like trying to kill a fly with a cannon. Sending his own Lieutenant General would have about the same effect. Since Yuuri had been in favor of Doesha in its battle with Kalara, Konrad and his men were away to help defend the country. That left him as the best one available. Even so, Yuuri knew that he hated getting involved in racial fights between Humans and Mazoku.

Once in Wolfram’s study, the Lieutenant General started bringing him up to speed on the new situation and spread the maps out onto the wide desk.

Five minutes later the door flew open, startling the men in the study. The burly and tall man who entered was met with respectful nods.

“Your Highness,” Wolfram’s Lieutenant General bowed. “I apologize for being late,” he said, while walking over to the desk where the maps lay. The man had a wide open face, graying hair of average length and a short beard that was also showing signs of age.

Going back to studying the maps, Wolfram waved it off. “I’m going away on a mission. I’ll probably return in a week or two. You'll be in charge while I'm gone.”

Herman Wasdan bowed, accepting the orders. But a flash of concern showed in the grayish eyes. “Sir, may I advise that since there has already been an attempt on Your Highness' life, it is not wise to…”

“It's His Majesty's command. Don't question it,” Wolfram said.

“Oh. I beg forgiveness,” the man said, bowing, but it was obvious that he was more confused and suspicious than sorry. And Wolfram had to agree with him. According to Yuuri’s orders of two weeks ago, he was forbidden to leave the Castle without a double escort. Now this… Of course any soldier would find it strange.

Well, maybe it was alright, Wolfram decided. Maybe the two of them needed a little time apart to cool their heads. Actually, he was already looking forward to the trip.

It took about an hour to get ready. As the orders had been hurried and time was short, Wolfram just sent a soldier to Yuuri to report his affirmative answer. He packed some clothes and toiletries, leaving one of his men to take care of food supplies. He considered taking a moment to leave Yuuri a note in their chamber, but decided that Yuuri knew where he was going and why. And he was sure that Yuuri knew how he felt, so why lose time he didn't have saying what was already known. After saying goodbye to Kyota and the ménage, he went outside to find his horse and food ready.

Once in the saddle, Wolfram cast a quick glance over the thirty assembled men. Underneath the sizzling sun there were five rows of six, sitting on their horses, waiting for the order to move out. Besides its rider, every horse was carrying bedrolls or blankets tied to the saddle backs and food in waterproof sacks. Some had small, tightly packed tents to be shared by the men and cooking gear was spread throughout the company.

Wolfram knew most men in the first row. Three of them were his bodyguards that he had personally selected to accompany him. Other three had familiar faces, but the men wore the von Voltaire’s uniforms, meaning he had already seen them either with his brother or in some military action. The rest of the troops were from mixed Houses, the variety of their colored uniforms immediately indicating that whoever was leading these men was doing so at His Majesty’s order.

“We are ready, Your Highness.”

Despite holding the rank general, Wolfram knew that beyond giving him the right to command the von Bielefeld army, his rank lacked reality. He was an excellent strategist, but he could not compare himself to either his, Gwendal’s or Conrart’s lieutenant generals. Or Kyota, not to mention Gwendal himself. Wolfram never harbored illusions about himself dishing out orders in a middle of a battle, when there were men who knew their business better than him. That would happen only in emergency cases when there was no one else more capable to lead the men.

Wolfram nodded at the captain. He urged his horse in the direction of the gate.

“Move out!” the captain bellowed. “Three in a row!”

The column of soldiers started moving, forming rows of three. Wolfram’s bodyguards caught up with him; they would take their orders only from the prince, unless instructed otherwise. The squad passed the gate and headed down the hill.

The villages lay two days away from the Castle. Most of the roads led through woodlands, so Wolfram expected it to be cooler once into the countryside. It was the very middle of the day, the sun making his shirt stick to his already sweaty skin. Wolfram’s optimistic mood started dissipating under the heat, his mind wandering to all whys and hows of this mission.

XXXXX

The sun was just barely still above the horizon, but the day was still bright when first raindrops started falling. Wolfram looked up into the sky. Only a few dark clouds were swimming above them. The unpredictable part of the summer was already over, and Wolfram had expected no sudden changes in the weather. The drops were scarce and soon the drizzle stopped altogether. But half an hour later, the rain returned full force, making the men dig into their sacks for waterproof cloaks. The pelting rain slowed the party down, hindering the visibility, turning the steep slopes into dangerous slides.

Wolfram was already considering setting up the tents under the rain, when he heard the sound of rushing water somewhere on the left side of the road. After sending the captain to find out more, it appeared that there was an abandoned mill nearby. At Wolfram's command, they turned left and soon the trees revealed an old dilapidated building with a couple of additional side structures that were in ruins. It seemed that one of them had burned down a long time ago, and now tufts of grass were growing in between the blackened bulks. While they were approaching, a startled deer shot out off the open door of the main building and disappeared deep in the forest.

The mill became obsolete when the river was diverted and the stream that was left was no longer enough to turn the wheel. Then, the family who had lived here, long ago moved to a village that used to be somewhere nearby. Later the village lost all its inhabitants to plague and it was never restored either. Now, only during rainy days like this, when the water level in the old river bed would rise, the mill could be reminded of its past days.

The men tied their horses under nearby trees, took their belongings and bundled into the mill. Inside, some small critters whisked deeper into the shadowy depths of the building. The mill smelled of mold, and when stepped on, the board right next to the threshold broke. Luckily no one was hurt. There were quite a few streamlets pouring straight through the ceiling, proving that the roof was as holey as a colander and that the upper floor was in even worse condition than the ground floor.

The ground-floor had three windows that were chipped and blackened. It seemed that somebody had tried to live here even after the plague: some pieces of rags were dangling from the windows and trembled at every gust of wind. The mechanism itself took up the biggest part of the mill. It was hard to tell in this half-light, but very likely the dark and hulking machinery was also rotten and worm-eaten, the parts that had been made of iron rusted. Wolfram was sure that it would be better not to touch it, just in case it decided to fall apart right on the soldiers’ heads.

Wolfram gripped his bag of belongings tighter and turned to the stairs that were leading upstairs. He intended to check and see if it would be a good place for him to set up his bedding, then have dinner and go to sleep. It was obvious that nothing better could be done in this weather. Sighing, he grasped the railing. All he needed now was to sink right through these rotten stairs.

Wolfram jerked in surprise as someone’s hands wrapped around his waist in an overly familiar manner.

“And why does my delicate flower look so upset?” a voice asked over the sounds of the gushing rain and the river outside.

Wolfram’s head whipped around to stare at the grinning face in disbelief.

“Hey, you!” One of Wolfram’s bodyguards shoved the man away from the prince. “What do you think you’re doing?!” he yelled at the man who staggered, tried to find his footing, but stumbled and then landed on his backside with a loud “oof”. The floor creaked dangerously.

“Stop this instant, idiot!” Wolfram pushed the bodyguard aside. He hurried to the sitting man. “You alright, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He took his husband’s offered hand and was pulled up. He rubbed his aching backside. “Serves me right,” he chuckled.

“Your Majesty!” The bodyguard, who had pushed Yuuri, immediately drew up and saluted then started apologizing.

It was hard to see in the half-light of the mill, but soon the soldiers recognized the brown-haired man dressed in the Voltaire army uniform as their ruler. The captain and a few men suppressed their smiles, as they had already identified the man trailing near the end of the column as their king earlier.

Wolfram looked at Yuuri for a few long moments then just shifted the sack on his back to get it more comfortable and continued towards the stairs. He could hear Yuuri giving quick explanations and dismissing the soldiers, then Yuuri’s steps caught up with him when he was almost at the top of the inconceivably creaking stairs. He thought that Yuuri was an idiot to be climbing after him – the stairs were barely managing to deal with his weight alone.

“Are you mad at me?” Yuuri asked softly.

Wolfram shook his head and revised his opinion. A desperate and scared idiot. “Why would I be? And the stairs… when they break under our weight, I suppose I could just fly instead of just crashing into the ground and knocking myself unconscious.” He turned to Yuuri whose face was suddenly lit by realization.

“Crap,” Yuuri said after looking down at his feet.

One step more and once on the top of the stairs, Wolfram stopped and waited until Yuuri was next to him.

“Really, why would I be angry with you, Yuuri?” Wolfram repeated, smiling, lowering his sack to the floor. “You left the Castle to join a squad on a dangerous mission where men had died. I had no idea you were here, and if something happened, my and my men’s priority would have been my safety instead of yours. What if we were attacked and you were killed?” Wolfram asked his husband, still with that soft smile on his lips.

“Eee…” Yuuri scratched his head sheepishly. He had not really thought about this, and he could see that Wolfram knew that. He stepped back at the intensity and fury which the green emeralds flashed at him. Yuuri quickly caught his balance as he remembered that there were only stairs behind him, instead of firm ground.

“So... now, instead of concentrating on my mission, I’ll have to worry about your precious ass,” Wolfram said, still smiling, stepping even closer to Yuuri.

“Ehhh…”

“Don’t fucking “ehhhh” me!” Wolfram exploded. “Do you have an ounce of brains, you careless moron?!” Wolfram spat, real rage blazing in his eyes. “I’m a soldier, those men downstairs are soldiers, even our horses are more soldiers than you are! You are no damn soldier, Yuuri! You,” he poked Yuuri on his chest with his index finger, “you, my dear Yuuri, should sit in your Castle, issue your commands and deal with things there, and I’ll deal with them here! Is that clear enough for you?!”

Yuuri’s eyes darkened. “That’s enough!” he hissed. “My power…”

“Haaah!” Wolfram flew into a greater rage, not letting him finish. He barely kept himself from grabbing Yuuri by his uniform lapels. “Your fucking power, you say? Let me tell you that your great power will be worth nothing if you fall off your horse or down these stairs and break your neck. Your power won't be worth a rap if someone stabs you to death while you’re sleeping. Your power isn't worth a thing if we have a traitor here and he poisons you! What the hell were you thinking?!” Wolfram roared.

The responses and anger that Yuuri had ready to shout in Wolfram's face earlier, had completely dissipated by now. He was just silently staring at his husband who was panting and shaking with rage. Wolfram was right – he had not thought this through.

“You know perfectly what I was thinking,” Yuuri muttered tiredly.

Wolfram snorted. “Yeah. I know.” He cursed softly. He finally stepped back to leave some space between Yuuri and the stairs, and forced himself to relax, trying to shake off the anger. “Does Gwendal know that you are here?”

“Well, I left a letter so he…”

“Good,” Wolfram spat, “then I’m sure he’ll arrange a personal hell for you when you return.”

Gwendal’s frown formed in Yuuri’s head, and he sighed. “He will kill me.”

“If I don’t do that first,” Wolfram snorted. “No, seriously.... I don’t remember marrying an idiot. Well, a wimp you were, but not an idiot. Has your brain completely gone cuckoo?”

Yuuri sighed again. “Yes, recently it did. All this matter with you and an Entrusted Lady… I can’t think clearly anymore!” he suddenly shouted.

Wolfram watched his husband then nodded. “I’ll admit that I was worried that you were sending me away as a punishment. Or even worse,” he added.

“And I’ll admit that I was thinking about it. Just to… To punish you. To… Goddamit, Wolfram!” he exploded. “Just to do something really bad to you! And you know that I love you too much to do that!” Yuuri spat angrily. “Wolfram, you have no idea how much I want for everything to be back to normal!”

Wolfram lowered his eyes from Yuuri’s face, settling his gaze somewhere at Yuuri’s feet, as he could not meet his husband’s eyes. “I know, Yuuri. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t want to cause any trouble,” Yuuri said. “All I wanted…”

Wolfram nodded. “I know what you wanted.” Lifting his head, Wolfram offered his husband a wan smile, “Under other circumstances it would have been a nice surprise.”

Yuuri shook his head heatedly. He wanted to say something else, but was stopped as Wolfram moved forward and embraced him in a strong hug.

“I’m sorry. I really am,” Wolfram said, stroking Yuuri’s back with soothing circular motions. “If I knew how to make it better, I would.”

Yuuri sighed. Closing his eyes, he could feel his anger seeping away. He let himself relax against his husband’s chest. While Wolfram was ruffling through his hair comfortingly, Yuuri slid his arms around the blond’s waist.

“Wolfram…”

While Yuuri was thinking about how to proceed with his words, Wolfram felt the arms around his waist squeeze tighter.

“Have you found the woman who…”

“No,” Wolfram shook his head before Yuuri could finish. Actually, even if his face had been okay, he would not have had enough time: Yuuri made sure he wouldn’t. Wolfram knew that one of the pretexts to send him away was to delay the search for an Entrusted Lady. Even after giving his permission, Yuuri was struggling. And Yuuri knew that both of them knew it.

To Yuuri, it might have seemed that for Wolfram, it was an interesting sport, the search for an appropriate woman, but none of that was true. Wolfram couldn't tell Yuuri that he was sick of all the palaver and the fake smiles, of the flirting and contrived dalliance. There was amazing tension and desperation hiding underneath those powdered faces and painted on smiles. Smiles that hid calculations on how to best work their way up the social ladder. The hopes and expectations of the females themselves and the hidden hand of pressure from their Houses that they were carrying, were making him ill. But Wolfram could not share these thoughts and experiences with his husband. How do you complain to your husband that you were sickened by something that he didn't want you involved in to begin with?

Knowing that Wolfram never liked and/or knew what to do with uncomfortable situations like these, Yuuri moved first. “It’s getting a little weird,” he said, while freeing himself from Wolfram’s embrace. “Let’s go see how the soldiers have established themselves downstairs. They probably want to have dinner.”

Wolfram nodded. Unless their king joined them, they would not have their meal. He cast a quick look around. There was only a tiny clear space above the stairs, the rest of the room filled with debris of the collapsed wall and caved in roof. There still was an old table above which a tiny window with broken glass opened into the night, and through which gusts of wind swept the rain in. Wolfram figured that once the table was removed, there would be enough place for two to sleep.

“We could close off the window with one of the rainproof cloaks,” Yuuri said, having the same idea.

Wolfram nodded again. He cast another glance at the debris where the sounds of steadily dripping water could be heard and followed Yuuri downstairs. He hoped that the rain would not get worse during the night or they might wake up in the middle of a pool.

They turned to go downstairs, this time one person at a time.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“Never ever call me a “delicate flower” again,” Wolfram said. “I bet you got that idiotic nickname from Kyota the Asshole.”

Yuuri grinned. He liked it when Wolfram was angry with Kyota. Actually “delicate flower” was no good for a nickname for Wolfram today. Instead Yuuri felt as if he had faced a typhoon. And barely survived.

Once downstairs, their senses were assaulted by the smells of food: something tasty was roasting on the spits over the fire. The men had made a fire in the remains of the fireplace. They were peeling pieces from a pile of broken planks for the firewood. There were a few scared critters whisking to and fro in the dark corners of the room.

“Your Majesty. Your Highness,” the men stood up and bowed.

Yuuri noticed that some of them were smiling. He groaned inwardly. It wasn't every day one could hear a king being scolded by his husband.

Yuuri motioned for them to sit down. “So... what’s for dinner?” he asked, plopping down at the fire.

“We caught a few of those fat bastards, Sir,” one of the soldiers motioned at the back of the room.

“Haaahh…” Yuuri drawled, his big eyes setting on the spits where the “fat bastards” were half-done. So it was not chicken, even if he could have sworn that the smell was the same. In truth, there were no wings, and the shape was closer to that of a rat’s.

Wolfram grinned at Yuuri’s reaction. “They’re really good,” he said, patting Yuuri on his arm. “I think their taste is like a …rabbit’s… probably,” he added, not that sure if he remembered the right animal “Only these are carnivores.”

“Yes, I know. We call them “rats”,” Yuuri muttered.

“Rats? No, of course not, they are not rats!” Wolfram disagreed. “Do you think they would offer you a rat?”

“Why not? If they believe that it’s good and tasty…”

“Yuuri, it’s not a rat. We don’t eat rats; they carry various diseases,” Wolfram said in a voice that left no room for protesting. “These are called “trusks”. Some villagers raise them on their farms for meat then sell it in marketplaces.”

When the trusks were done, Yuuri waited for his share to cool down, then took a careful nibble. It did taste like chicken, only the meat was tougher and one needed to work it quite a lot with his teeth.

“Not bad at all,” Yuuri said, after finishing his trusk. He was licking his fingers now. “Thanks for the meal,” he nodded at the soldiers who were content that their king was content.

To follow up, he and Wolfram added a few rashers of ham and dried meat. Finally, content, Yuuri leaned against Wolfram’s side, who was still eating.

“You're eating quite a lot,” Yuuri noted. He was glad that Wolfram’s appetite was back – recently all Wolfram did was take a few nibbles of his meals and leave the rest. Really, fresh air and some exercise worked wonders.

“What? –Worried about my weight?” Wolfram laughed, pushing a piece of dried meat into his mouth.

“Not really,” Yuuri shrugged, yawning. “But I like you at your current size.”

“Then shut your mouth and let me eat, or I’ll waste away.”

Yuuri chuckled. He turned his head to place a quick peck on the blond’s temple then stood up. “I’ll go take care of our haunt upstairs.”

Chewing, Wolfram nodded. When he finished eating and took care of his business outside and climbed upstairs, the table was already missing. Instead there lay a wide sleeping-bag. The window was covered with a waterproof cloak to keep the rain outside. A small candlestick stood on the floor next to the bedroll.

“So you really did plan all this out earlier.” Wolfram said, pointing at the double sleeping-bag.

“Well, of course,” Yuuri said. “I wouldn’t risk you going to someone else looking for warmth.”

Wolfram eyed his husband’s back while he was busy taking his boots off. It seemed it was just a simple joke. Wolfram suppressed a sigh. It was going to take time until they stopped questioning each other’s sincerity.

The blond flopped onto the sleeping-bag and started pulling his boots off.

Yuuri scrunched his nose, “Damn, how your feet stink!”

Wolfram shrugged. “Well, yours don’t smell flowers either.” He pushed his boots aside then started unwrapping the puttees. “Your boots are new, aren’t they? Do you have any blisters?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Not yet. We’ve been riding most of the time, but there are a few reddish places.”

Yuuri finished undressing and slipped into the sleeping-bag with a loose under shirt and underwear. Wolfram soon followed him.

“I don’t know if it was a good idea for you to follow me into the countryside,” Wolfram sighed. “It’s rainy and it’s cold at nights…”

Yuuri laughed. “Don’t forget that some time ago I voluntary went on a similar “exploit” with Yozak. It was the same, only add lice and bugs.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Wolfram chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll get some of those for company.”

“You know,” Yuuri said then, “I’ve always wondered…you are so used to harsh conditions. Before coming to Shin Makoku… Well, a Prince to me meant someone who would just sit comfortably on pillows and eat grapes.” He chuckled at what he thought about Wolfram when he saw the blond for the first time. “You know, when I saw you for the first time, I thought that you are nothing more just a pompous pretty boy. Your uniform and hair were too dazzling for my unsophisticated taste.”

“It’s my secret weapon,” Wolfram said seriously, but it was obvious that he could hardly keep himself from laughing. “They all think me nothing more than a pretty doll and then I strike.”

“Sure you do,” Yuuri chuckled. But it was quite close to the truth. “I was surprised that you really knew how to use that sword that hung at your side.”

Wolfram yawned. “It is mostly that way in other countries and kingdoms. But here, in Shin Makoku and some neighboring kingdoms, it is very important that a boy knew how to wield a sword and be able to fight for his beliefs. As you know, there’s Military Academy in von Christs’ lands where noble families from Shin Makoku and other kingdoms send their sons to turn them into men. The conditions are harsh. They are taught various military subjects and various disciplines; like strategy, economics, sword-fighting, element control, etiquette. After finishing the academy, they supposedly are capable of running their Houses and leading their troops. Well, most of them really are.”

“Did you attend it?” Yuuri asked. “Somehow I’ve never heard you mention it before.”

“That’s because I never attended it. My mother was against it.” Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Mothers”, he said the word as if it could have explained everything in the world. “But I believe that with Gwendal and Gunter running me so hard, I had an even tougher life than the boys there. I had the same physical training, plus sword-work with Conrad, history and general knowledge with Suzannah Julia and all the politics, etiquette, and social niceties that being a Prince in the Royal Court could provide.

“Gwendal attended the Academy though. He quit it later, after I was born. Later he said that he did not like it there anyway, but who knows? He still has a few friends from there who visit him once in a while. When they get drunk they tell lots of stories. From what I heard, Gwendal was quite wild back then.”

“Seriously?” Yuuri wondered. “Wild? How so?”

“Well, it seems that he was the bane of the upper-class students. There’s a very clear hierarchy. It seems Gwendal once led his “army” into a soap and broom battle in the baths which was successful, but got him grounded for two weeks.”

“Amazing,” Yuuri laughed.

Wolfram shrugged. “Well, as I said, many, after finishing the academy soon forget the beaten-in-teachings and are just happy to have escaped that hell. They are content to just sit on their asses and get fatter and fatter. As Shin Makoku has constantly been involved in wars, neither Gwendal nor Conrad nor I had such luck, though.”

“Hmm… I see,” Yuuri drawled. “So mostly what rich aristocrats remember from the academy teachings are etiquette and mannerisms… Well, I was never into pomposity, luxury and all that stuff,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri,” Wolfram smiled, amazed and amused by his husband’s naivety once again, “every morning and evening you bathe in your private baths. You have breakfast in the most luxurious dining-room in Shin Makoku. You walk on carpets and look at tapestries that cost more than an average nobleman can ever hope to have in his life. The horses and carriages you ride… Yuuri, only a person who has it to take for granted can never understand what he has. People will kill and they do, to get what you have, Yuuri.

“Those women that I met, Yuuri,” Wolfram continued heatedly, “they are as cunning as hell. They only see me as a ladder to the upper strata of society. It’s a nice tradition when there is no money and similar interests involved, but now… All those calculating smiles and flirting touches just so that in the end they are thought worthy of getting into the salons of the top families and then they can boast and gossip to their friends dying of jealousy… They will do anything to work their way up. Some of their families are in bad debt and this is the last chance for them. Some…” Wolfram suddenly fell silent, realizing he was blabbering. But Yuuri did not seem to mind. The prince could not be sure, but it seemed that Yuuri was even somewhat relieved.

XXXXX

The biting insects were vicious. Yuuri slapped himself on the face sleepily, but it didn’t work, because even though the whine moved away, a few seconds later it maliciously came back to his right ear. The noise of the water outside seemed to have lessened, which meant that the rain had stopped. It was still dark behind the cloak on the window. Wolfram was calmly sleeping.

Smacking himself on the cheek – this time successfully – Yuuri turned to his other side.

The next time he woke up it was because Wolfram smacked him in the face with his hand.

“Ow,” Yuuri frowned, feeling his nose. He turned to his husband who was still sleeping. In the half-light, a bug zoomed past the blond’s head, and Wolfram waved his hand again. Yuuri sighed. He turned away and tried to cover his head with the sleeping-bag so that only his nose would be visible. No such luck, as the sleeping-bag was too short for it. Maybe I really am spoiled, just like Wolfram said, Yuuri thought. But then, he couldn't imagine being food for insects could be anyone’s favorite pastime.

Just when Yuuri had finally settled and was near falling asleep, Wolfram moved about, letting out a sound that could only belong to a troubled and anxious soul. Yuuri tried to ignore it, thinking that his husband was just having a leg cramp, but then Wolfram rammed his foot into Yuuri’s shin and muttered something in a threatening voice. He was fighting something or someone in his dream. As Yuuri watched it seemed that Wolfram was losing, as his body soon shrank, and instead of threats the sounds were of desperation and denial.

Yuuri was all too familiar with these weird nightmares. Wolfram had them at least once every couple of months. And Yuuri was beginning to think he knew all too well what might be their source.

“Wolfram,” Yuuri shook the blond who suddenly started to wave his hands, trying to push something away. “Wolfram, it’s just a nightmare!”

What Yuuri liked was that usually Wolfram could be easily waked up from his dreams. But not always.

Wide-eyed, Yuuri blinked at his husband who had just somehow managed to knock him down and appear on top of him. He had no idea how Wolfram did that without getting entangled in the sleeping-bag. Alarmed, Yuuri stayed still and watched his husband who was watching him in return. It didn't seem that Wolfram had confused him with someone else. He hoped Wolfram hadn’t, because then it would have been difficult to explain the sudden erection that was pressing against Yuuri.

“Any idea where the lube is?” Wolfram asked in a voice Yuuri hardly recognized, but which confirmed his suspicions.

Yuuri pushed at the blond’s waist to get him off. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Wolfram didn’t even budge. Yuuri lowered his arms to his sides. It wouldn’t go this way.

“Wolfram?”

“Mm?”

“As much as I would enjoy fucking with you in a ruined house filled with soldiers who are a few meters away, and who, very likely, can hear us perfectly well even now, something about the whole idea disturbs me.”

Wolfram seemed to have woken up completely. He stared at his husband for a few long seconds then slid off him.

“Wolfram?” Yuuri called his husband who was settling back to sleep.

“Mm?”

“Your nightmares are weird.”

“Hmmm...”

And that was it. Yuuri heard his husband’s head hitting the roll of clothes that served as a pillow and the blond was out, asleep.

XXXXX

When Yuuri woke up, he was alone in the sleeping-bag. After putting his clothes and boots on, he went downstairs. The room there was empty except for four men who had stood watch during the night and now were sleeping. After walking outside, it was a bright morning already. Yuuri looked around. A few soldiers were standing at the door of the mill, the others were tending to the horses, replenishing water supplies, repacking the bedrolls and tents.

About ten meters away from the mill, in a field, through the morning mist Yuuri discerned a blue uniform and blond hair. To be sure that it was not one of Wolfram’s bodyguards, he moved closer. Wolfram was ruffling through the tall grass, gathering something. Were those berries?

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asked, looking around.

“What does it look like? Gathering berries, of course.”

Yuuri chuckled inwardly. Wolfram had a sweet tooth. He loved sweets, chocolate being his favorite. But he also loved fruit and berries. Yuuri squatted down to look at what Wolfram was so interested in. The berries were small, similar to strawberries, only they were blue.

“Here, say “aaa”, Wolfram said while holding a few berries between his fingers.

The berries tasted quite different than strawberries, but they were tasty nonetheless. “Not bad at all,” Yuuri said, starting to look around for more clusters of berry stalks.

Wolfram held out a handful for Yuuri. “Here, these are for your breakfast.”

Yuuri cupped his hands and Wolfram poured the berries into them. Yuuri grinned at the blond’s back who had concentrated again on looking through the grass. He stood up.

“Why did nobody wake me up?” Yuuri wondered softly while throwing a few berries into his mouth. “We are losing time here.”

“Nobody dared wake you up.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “What about you?” he asked, chewing.

Wolfram shrugged. “I woke up ten minutes ago; they didn't dare wake me up either. And don’t think that my first thought after getting up is also not to let you sleep.”

Yuuri squatted down again to place a peck on the blond’s nape. “Well, there was no “good-morning-sex”, but I’ll make sure you get your nice, hot cup of tea which hopefully will improve your mood.”

Wolfram flushed red in embarrassment. Yuuri shoved the rest of the berries into his mouth and, chewing, headed further into the forest. He emerged five minutes later.

They had breakfast, and Yuuri insured that Wolfram had two cups of tea, then they headed back to the main road to continue their journey. They traveled the entire day, only stopping to give themselves and the horses short rest and meal breaks. When the sun started setting, they debated whether it was better to stop and establish a camp or continue towards the fort which was still a few hours away. In the end it was decided to move forward.

They reached the first village after an hour and a half. Another ten minutes later, after passing the village, they found the fort. Wolfram, Yuuri and the captain, urged their horses forward toward the guards at the gate. The guards seemed ready to ring the alarm, and even when the riders reached the large area in front of the gate, lit with torches, they still stood alarmed, their eyes shooting past the riders into the darkness where a large number of men could be hiding; Even if the newcomers wore the right uniforms, they could have been taken off the bodies of the dead. Only when the guards saw the familiar faces, did they relax and break into tired grins at the sight of the Prince Consort and the attendant captain. They saluted their superiors and gave a signal to the men on the other side of the gate to push the gate open.

TBC


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Credits go to Melisenda for, of course, beta-reading this chapter and offering all kinds of information. Also for the piece with Yuuri and Wolfram teasing each other when, after a successful operation, they are going back to the fort.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 9

During the few weeks of their stay, the soldiers had built a fort. It was a quite shabby structure, that for safety’s sake, stood rather far from the forest. As there were not enough men since the attacks began and they had their duties of patrolling and scouting, plus working with the locals and hunting, there was hardly anyone left to defend the fort. It was made of tapered posts that were hammered into the ground in a circle. Inside the circle there were four high turrets where men stood watch.

Inside the fort it was quite cramped, with the horses tied to a horizontal pole and taking almost half of the ground-space. As it was late at night already, all of them were inside so as not to attract unwanted attention from thieves. Theft from the military was punished with death and a rare soul would attempt that. But for the bandits, rebels and other asocial groups, the horses would be a plum.

Yuuri did not want to be recognized yet, and the dark night served his intentions quite well. While their men were building tents, Yuuri, Wolfram and the captain met the second-in-command who received them with bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. After discussing the current situation, Yuuri and Wolfram went back to the small city made of tents and hurriedly set up their own in the middle. They had a quick meal while discussing the situation then went to sleep.

Yuuri woke up first. He dressed and left the tent. Things looked different in the morning. The shabby structure looked even shabbier in the daylight. It was clear that all the buildings were erected with the thought of a temporary stay. There were no real roofs anywhere. All that the structures had were rainproof cloaks tossed on them. 

Men were busying themselves with horses, breakfast and other morning duties. With the men Yuuri had brought, there were now about fifty soldiers. The rebels were said to have about fifteen riders. But that was a preliminary count. Since then, other Mazoku might have joined the group.

While Yuuri was walking and looking around, some soldiers recognized him, some seemed to think that they had seen him somewhere and stared at his brown hair and eyes, trying to remember where it was.

Yuuri headed towards a small wooden structure that he knew was a toilet. After that he washed his hands and face in the barrel that stood almost in the middle of the fort exactly for that purpose. Feeling that he was ready to start his morning, Yuuri returned to the tent to find his husband still sleeping.

“Wolfram?”

“Mmm?” the blond rumbled while turning to his other side, away from Yuuri.

“I know you like sleeping in, but it’s about time you woke up,” Yuuri said, shaking Wolfram by his shoulder. “We are on a mission.”

Wolfram rolled to his back. “No, I’m on a mission,” he corrected Yuuri groggily. “You,” he yawned loudly. “You aren’t even supposed to be here.”

“Let’s not start that again,” Yuuri said, sitting down next to the sleeping-bag as it was clear that Wolfram was not going to fall asleep again.

“Fine,” Wolfram said, sitting up. He ruffled through his mat of hair and yawned again. With bleary eyes he gave Yuuri a hopeful look. “Food?”

Yuuri sighed. “Alright, go put yourself in order and I’ll take a look and see what we have.”

When Wolfram – looking presentable – returned, Yuuri had already prepared a breakfast of what he found in their belongings. They ate and went to look for the captain and the second-in-command.

After spending a few minutes with the second-in-command (there was only much to discuss after the calm night), Yuuri, Wolfram, the captain and a group of ten soldiers left the base to look around. Wolfram noticed that most of the soldiers were more relaxed and hopeful, now that their powerful king was with them. The rest of them were even more worried, thinking how strong the enemy must be that the king himself had to come to these villages, forgotten by all three gods long ago.

The sun, rising higher and higher, warmed the morning air. The surroundings were heavily forested, a few lone houses scattered here and there, sometimes gathered into clusters. Some of the independent farms, after the recent Mazoku attacks, had been turned into piles of charred logs. Some residents had been burned alive, others escaped and now were living with their relatives deeper in the country or had returned to their native lands.

It was dangerous and pointless to send solitary soldiers to scout into the forests. There were traps set up by the rebels and only the locals knew the genuine paths that actually lead somewhere, instead of just dumping you into a swamp or bog. Bigger groups could be more effective, but attempts to comb out these immeasurable and impenetrable woods had not produced any results so far.

Before setting off from Blood Pledge Castle, Yuuri had decided that as soon as the rebels were dealt with, he would hire workers to build new houses. He was not sure if the residents would return, but the situation was rather delicate and could hurt his reputation. It was his responsibility after all – he had invited Humans to settle in Shin Makoku’s territory. By doing so, he had assured their safety. Now this…he felt as if he had to personally apologize and offer his condolences to these people.

From the very start of his reign, the idea of Humans and Mazoku living together was met differently. Because of the constant wars and wrongs in the past, both sides were mistrustful and hated each other. The main reason for the hate, as usual, was the superstitions that arose from the differences between both cultures. 

The villages that lay deeper in Shin Makoku had the opinion of Humans being a power that came with swords, hate, fire, death and destruction. Humans had to be annihilated. Humans were evil – that was known even by a child.

In higher Mazoku society, which mostly consisted of powerful element wielders, Humans were seen as weak and unworthy. They had no contracts with the elements and it was clear that they stood much lower than Mazoku. All tries to use Esoteric Stones and other magical things against Mazoku were seen as ignominy which only confirmed their rottenness. All Humans that could fight had to be exterminated. The only thing Humans were destined for was serving Mazoku, working in mines, plantations and rowing in ships. Their lands had to be taken, and it was impossible to think that those people were equal to Mazoku. Needless to say, exactly the same was thought on the opposite side: Mazoku were seen as an incarnation of evil.

Some Mazoku and Humans, usually the ones living near the border, close to each other, the ones that had already mixed among themselves or had children who did, were not so hostile. Seeing how their neighbors worked their lands, grew crops and cattle just as they did; seeing how their neighbors were equally distressed by armies coming and going; stealing, burning, raping and killing, all that made them think that there was not such a big difference between the two races. 

There also were some people who had long ago tried to put an end to the wars between Mazoku and Humans and all the superstitions, and propagate a peaceful life between the races. They tried to educate and influence the various society strata, but they were despised and looked down by many noblemen. They were persecuted and, if caught, were executed. These practices forced them to leave the country. Some naive souls went to the Humans where they were met by the same fate; others chose neutral countries from which they continued their teachings.

When Yuuri’s reign started, only few were happy with the newly issued order. A few sessions were convened where the noble families expressed their deep concern for their future. They were worried that besides the newly issued orders, there would come a time when Humans would become equal. That would damage the old, but very convenient social structure. 

The noble families expressed their concerns to the king but their young king’s enthusiasm was unbeatable. A big role was the fact that Yuuri was a half-blood himself. To say something bad about Humans was the same as saying all those things about their king. But everybody could see that the king was young and naive, and he knew nearly nothing about Shin Makoku and could be manipulated easily. The problem was Gwendal von Voltaire. The man took his responsibilities seriously. Even if he seemed not to harbor much hope that the half-baked king would be of any worth, he had turned himself into a wall between Yuuri and the nobility that aimed to influence their young king. Soon Gunter von Christ joined forces with von Voltaire and it became clear that the men were going to form the boy’s views according to their own. Although it really didn’t work that way, the impression was that the von Voltaire and von Christ families were the ones who were dictating terms to the young and inexperienced king. The engagement with the von Bielefelds … Yes, it was obvious that the king was in their clutches. It had been clear that this king was the most powerful being on the planet, but it took a few years for the public to see that he also had his own opinion.

Glancing sideways, Yuuri looked at his husband. In his youth, Wolfram, like most boys of that generation, despised Humans. Wolfram had his own little drama before Yuuri came to Shin Makoku. Wolfram had never wanted to exterminate Humans, but in his eyes they were lowly and weak creatures, depending on random magical artifacts. He never intended to let them into his milieu. The news about a half-blood brother had thrown Wolfram off balance. He felt hurt and betrayed and he did not manage to set his feelings in order. He hated Humans, but loved his brother; but his brother had been lying all the time (Wolfram considered it a lie), which had actually showed that Conrad had inherited the “sneakiness” from his “bad” Human half. It was a difficult time, and Conrad had actually never had a chance to reclaim the place that he had lost in his youngest brother’s heart. As far as Yuuri had heard from Murata, that had a strong impact on Conrad. He had tried various tactics, but even if in the end Wolfram recognized him as his brother, the distance remained. And then came the time when Conrad had to play the role of a traitor and switch sides. Even if that had been pretence, it damaged his and Wolfram’s relationship forever.

Times, things and opinions changed, but, like those never moving mountains, Wolfram still did not like Humans. Sometimes Yuuri wondered how such a bright man like his husband could be so superstitious. Of course, Wolfram’s main concern was the denationalization of the Mazoku, which was reasonable. But Wolfram loved him, a half-Human, and to some extent loved Conrad. He also liked Shori who was also half-Human, was on good terms with Asami, respected Murata and never cared whether his guards were Human, half-Human or Mazoku as long as he trusted their skill and loyalty. Long ago Yuuri realized that Wolfram was a hypocrite: not managing to find faults in Humans (or at least bigger faults than those in Mazoku), he still somehow managed to twist things so that he could hate and love in turns as he saw fit. 

Yuuri’s biggest mistake had been that he had shared his observances with Wolfram. He and Wolfram had nearly the nastiest row in their rows’ history. Wolfram didn’t talk to him almost for two weeks after that, and ever since then, always managed to envisage some specially prepared test or challenge in every dealing with Humans. Like this time: he had been sent to capture the rebellious Mazoku that were clearly saying what Wolfram thought himself – mixing with Humans would denationalize the Mazoku. But, as usual, Yuuri knew that as soon as they met Humans, Wolfram would forget his hostility and just do his job in defending helpless people. After a few days, he would mull things over in his head, but it would already be post factum and Wolfram would just let it go. Sometimes Wolfram was dense. Yuuri knew that. And he loved Wolfram even more, because that let him think that, from time to time, he was also allowed random stupidities. Yuuri didn’t know, but behind their backs Kyota (when annoyed by one of them) jokingly said: “Birds of a feather flock together – one is handsome and stupid, the other stupid but handsome.” He was lucky that Yuuri had never heard that.

Yuuri blinked as his eyes were met by green ones which looked at him curiously, as if asking what he was thinking about. Yuuri gave a somewhat sheepish smile and concentrated on the building in front of them. A few times Yuuri stopped to talk to the locals and hear their reports about the incidents. People were terrified. Most of them, even if under the possible threat of hunger, were considering moving back to their native lands. He thought about convincing people to stay and swearing that he would deal with the rebels, but he was afraid to give empty promises when the people’s lives were at stake. And the more people they met and talked to, the gloomier Yuuri became.

“No more, Yuuri,” Wolfram growled, after riding up to his husband. Ahead of them was the eleventh house Yuuri intended to visit. “I never knew you were a masochist! Haven’t you had enough of this?!”

Yuuri glared at him, mulled over something in his head, finally nodding and urging his horse forward, away from the house. Wolfram rolled his eyes and in a few seconds caught up with his husband.

“I think it’s about time we ate lunch,” Wolfram said in a commanding voice, completely ignoring Yuuri’s bad mood.

“Fine,” Yuuri sighed, complying.

“Sir!”

Both Yuuri and Wolfram turned to the soldier who had shouted. His arm was pointing at a lone rider who was quickly catching up with them. He was still far away, crossing the meadow in a hurry. The soldier reached them a few minutes later. Hurriedly, he informed them that one of the villagers had noticed a man who wore plain clothes riding into a forest near his house. After taking a few minutes to discuss it with the captain and Wolfram, Yuuri asked the soldier to lead them to the place where the villager saw the suspicious rider disappear.

It took them about half an hour to get there. After talking to the villager and his family, they were assured that what he saw might have been one of the rebels going back to his camp. 

While they were standing in the villager’s yard, Wolfram wasn’t too sure about following him. Instead of a rebel going back to the camp, it might have been one of them trying to lure the soldiers into a trap. With all the visits to the farms today, the presence of the king in the area wasn’t exactly a secret anymore. Noticing his husband hesitating, Yuuri was sure that he was the one making his husband falter.

“It would be better if you returned to the fort,” Wolfram told Yuuri just as Yuuri had expected. “You’ll be escorted by five men and I’ll take the rest with me into the forest.”

“It’s too dangerous - there will be too few men left for you,” Yuuri protested immediately. “We cannot waste time and let them slip away.”

“Yuuri…”

“It’s a command.”

Wolfram said nothing, but his eyes told Yuuri that the issue was going to be raised later, when they were in private face to face, and that it was not going to be anything pleasant.

“On your horses!” Wolfram commanded. He got on his horse. “You,” he turned to one of the men. “Go back into the fort and tell them what happened. Get a back up of ten men.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Wolfram turned his horse around and urged it towards the forest. The rest of the men followed him. His three bodyguards caught up with him and took their positions at his sides. Yuuri also found himself in a circle of soldiers. He realized that he was a bigger handicap than he had thought earlier. If anything happened…Wolfram was going to go berserk.

Wolfram was not an expert at tracking, but the captain and one older soldier from the squad were good at it. After looking around at the beginning of the forest, from the treaded moss and snapped off twigs and grass blades, they discerned a trail of a lone horse. 

Following it carefully, the group of thirteen men made their way deeper into the forest. It was much cooler in the forest where the rays of the sun did not reach far and were not so harsh. The forest was calm, only chirrups of birds and pings of insects to be heard over the sounds of the muffled hoof-falls of the horses. Various berry clusters were scattered here and there, and Yuuri suddenly had a thought that he wouldn’t mind coming here in autumn to look for mushrooms. He liked mushrooms, especially fried with fresh potatoes.

After following the tracks for about twenty minutes, they saw that they lead further into the forest, becoming some sort of pathway. The expectations rose, but the soldiers became much more careful. Everyone in the squad became silent now. A few minutes later, the captain stopped the squad and dispatched two scouts to check the tracks in front of them.

A few minutes later the men came back and motioned for the rest of the squad to follow them. When they had crossed about ten meters, the scouts started making some signs with their hands, and Yuuri, not understanding, urged his horse forward.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri didn’t have time to blink before something invisible slammed into him and he was precipitated off his horse. While rolling across the hummock and over the moss and twigs while shielding his face, his shocked mind decided that it really had been a bad idea to go into the forest. Finally, his body stopped and he lifted his head.

“Wolfram! You alright?” he shouted.

“Don’t shout. I’m fine,” came the impatient answer in a soft, but penetrating tone. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Don’t curse,” Yuuri mumbled to himself while getting to his hands and knees. His head was still spinning after the short and sudden flight. Only now did he realize that it had been Wolfram who whipped him off the horse while using Yuuri’s own air element. 

“I’m here.” Holding onto the nearest tree Yuuri stood up. Walking up and looking at the place where he had been a few moments ago, he saw his horse lying on the ground while its entire body was spastically jerking. It was covered in blood, its head bent at an awkward angle. It had been a trap that had been identified by the scouts. The suspended tree trunk that had swung down with murderous intent, was loose and still swinging above the gurgling animal.

“Finish it off, dammit!” Wolfram growled at the soldiers, noticing his husband’s transfixed stare.

Yuuri started at a flash of lightning that flew from the captain’s palm. The horse stopped twitching.

Wolfram rode up to Yuuri. “You alright?”

Yuuri nodded meekly.

“Get on the damn horse!” Wolfram hissed at him. “And don’t even think about moving before I tell you, got it?!”

Yuuri looked up at him and the hand that was held out for him. Mindlessly, he took it and was pulled up behind Wolfram. Wolfram was beside himself with anger, but, once he was seated on the horse, Yuuri could feel that his husband was shaking. The trembling lessened when he wrapped his arms around the blond’s waist in a firm hold. 

After the accident their alertness was now at the fullest. They followed the tracks deeper into the forest. Further along there were signs of other lone traces joining the track. The scouts returned with information. They reported that about half a kilometer away there was a camp. It had been heavily guarded, and they had not managed to get close enough to be able to tell how many men there were. 

After the scouts’ report, the captain and other men turned their eyes to the prince and the king. Feeling the solid weight of his husband behind him, Wolfram shook his head. Even if the camp was gone tomorrow, it was too risky. 

“Prepare for an attack,” the king said.

“Yuuri!” Wolfram hissed.

Yuuri said nothing. Even if Wolfram’s attention was going to be all on him during the battle, the soldiers that were with them were good. He knew that. One of them could take on two average Mazoku. This was their chance. If not now, then the killings of the villagers would continue and they would have to try to track these traitors down for another two weeks or a month.

Wolfram suddenly urged his horse forward, and Yuuri grabbed at his waist so as not to fall off. “We’ll have a long talk after this, Your Majesty,” Wolfram hissed, only for Yuuri’s ears.

Yuuri winced inwardly. His underlings did not question his orders and obeyed as subordinates should. The problem was...besides being his subject, Wolfram was his husband. Where a bodyguard would just obey, with Wolfram things changed. Annoyed and frustrated, long time ago, he had mentioned this once to Wolfram. The answer that he got shut him up for good. Wolfram said that, as a bodyguard, he had a right to knock his subject out, if he was acting like an idiot and was endangering his own security. Of course, after Yuuri had checked, he learned that this so called ‘right’ wasn’t written down anywhere, it was just how Wolfram saw things. Now they were grown men, and he knew that Wolfram did not kid with things like that. Yuuri knew that Wolfram might just do it. Everyone knew that Wolfram was his weakness and that he would not be able to punish his husband severely for failing to obey his commands. But the thing that scared Yuuri the most was that he also knew that his husband would act the same even if knowing that he would be punished with death.

The plan that Wolfram had offered was simple: kill the guards, charge in, burn all the tents at once and subdue the rest of the rebels. Usually these men were active during the night, so Wolfram suspected that it was a high possibility that most of them would still be asleep in their tents.

Yuuri didn’t like the plan as he heard it. He more or less agreed with the necessity of eliminating the guards, but, in his opinion, burning sleeping people to death was over the top. Wolfram rolled his eyes at his husband as he reminded Yuuri that the rebels hadn’t been any more compassionate when they attacked and killed the innocent villagers. And besides, did Yuuri honestly think that the men in the camp would just lay there and sleep until the flames reached them? No, they would run out and be so confused that they would be easier to kill. It was the idea of the wholesale slaughter that bothered Yuuri. After a quiet, but intense give and take, the argument ended with Yuuri’s command that as many men as possible would be taken alive for trial and judgment. Wolfram hadn't liked it, but he revised his plans in accordance with Yuuri’s wishes.

The camp had been created within an area with fewer trees. The camp was guarded so first, Wolfram sent two fire-wielders to take care of the two men in front of them, so that they would have a clear road for the attack. The men that stood watch didn’t seem to have noticed anything. They were too late to notice two flashes of fire strings that shot out of the bushes. Silently, the two bodies sagged onto the moss. The soldiers retreated and came back to the squad, which was waiting about thirty meters away. They got onto their horses and the whole squad charged. 

“In the name of the King, surrender!” the captain shouted, storming into the camp. 

The attack was sudden and, as Yuuri had hoped, some shocked men did not offer any resistance. Others, though, fought back. Men poured out of the tents and fireballs with lightning bolts crossed the air, while swords slashed. The ground was shaking as both sides tried to overwhelm each other with their elements. In the middle of the forest there wasn’t any lake or large body of water for the water wielders to use, so they could only trust their swords. Here and there trees and moss caught fire, the thick smoke making it hard to discern friend and foe.

Wolfram did not ride into battle. Softly whispering to calm his horse, he stayed back at the edge of the camp and watched his men fighting. He followed every movement in the camp, being ready to block any oncoming attack. Vaguely, he could feel Yuuri’s fingers nervously clutching at his uniform.

Wolfram noticed two rebels who had previously surrendered come to their senses. There were not enough soldiers to tie them up and render them harmless. One of the rebels got to his feet and hurtled into one of the tents, obviously looking for his sword. Meanwhile, the second one decided that the two men that were keeping out of the battle were the most important.

Wolfram raised his hand to deflect the fireball. He never got the chance as an enormous whoosh of wind swept not only the fireball away, but also the man and some of the tents. A few soldiers and rebels were lifted off their feet, and tumbled along the ground, others were tossed off their horses. Dark clouds gathered over the forest immediately. A light rain started, growing heavier as the clouds built themselves higher and higher, working on extinguishing the fire.

“Surrender this instant or die!” Yuuri shouted.

One of the rebels dove for his sword that had been torn from his hand by that giant swish of air. A water dragon whooshed into the clearing and smashed into him, hurtling him into a tree where he sagged unconscious. Four more water dragons twined their way out of the forest and into the camp.

“I’m not kidding,” Yuuri said in the silence where only the whisper of the trees, the rain and the whooshing sounds of the five water dragons were heard.

Cautious, Wolfram watched one of the rebels putting his sword down. Being sure that Yuuri would extinguish any source of uncontrolled fire, Wolfram summoned two fire-lions which trotted towards the rebels to encourage them to give up. Wolfram usually avoided summoning more lions than he could follow to minimize the risk of setting something he didn’t want burned on fire. Single rain droplets were dispersing with a soft hiss as soon as they landed on the fire-lions’ fur. Without disturbance, they took up their stance at the soldiers’ side.

The rebels surrendered. After they were tied up, and the wounded of both sides taken care off, Yuuri dispersed the dragons and slid off Wolfram’s horse, thinking that he would take one of the rebel’s mounts for himself. But after seating the prisoners onto the horses it appeared that there were not enough of the animals. Yuuri gave Wolfram a look and held out his hand for the blond. Wolfram took it and in a second Yuuri was on the horse, seated in front of his husband. Puzzled, Wolfram squirmed.

“It’s my horse, Yuuri. I’m a better rider than you, so why do I have to ride behind you?” Wolfram protested in a whisper. He flicked his wrist to disperse his fire-lions as there was no need for them anymore.

“Because I’m a King; I have to victoriously lead my men back,” Yuuri grinned, in high spirits now that the matter was finally closed and that there were almost no casualties. “I’d look weird if I were doing that while sitting behind you.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’ve just led your horse into certain death,” he muttered, but to himself so that his husband couldn’t hear him. “You aren’t even supposed to be here,” he said loud enough for Yuuri to hear.

“That’s enough, Wolfram!”

“Fine, fine,” Wolfram muttered. Well, he agreed that it would really be good for Yuuri’s image. Besides, even if angry, he had to agree that Yuuri did quite well. But he was still a little annoyed at having his horse usurped. 

“Are you sure that it wouldn’t fit better with your image as the conquering hero, if, instead of riding behind you, I rode side saddle on your lap, and gazed up adoringly at you the whole time?” he asked, the sarcasm almost, but not quite hidden in his voice.

Yuuri laughed. “That’s a good idea, Wolfram,” he could not help answering. He shifted as if intending to change position. He suddenly yelped and sat up straighter as Wolfram’s hands, which had been resting easily on Yuuri’s waist, now dug in.

After a few seconds, when Wolfram had seemingly resigned himself to the situation and unclenched his fingers, Yuuri found that he simply could not resist teasing his husband and getting in the last word.

Turning his head to grin at Wolfram, who immediately regarded him with suspicion, Yuuri said, “Maybe not now....but later, when we're alone, you can sit in my lap and gaze up at me adoringly all you want. I promise.”

Wolfram’s answering growl made Yuuri laugh.

They reached the fort in the late afternoon. It was decided that the rebels, with a convoy of fifteen men, would be sent to the capital right away. Yuuri and Wolfram decided to stay behind, have a good night’s sleep and set off in the morning. Yuuri was also planning on talking to the villagers and reassuring them that it was safe to return. He was also planning on finding builders and managing the establishment of new houses. He ignored Wolfram’s suggestion to leave it all to one of his men.

After having a late lunch, Yuuri, accompanied by his husband and a few soldiers, headed back to the villages. It took the rest of the day to inform people about the elimination of the enemy and find people who undertook the task of building new houses. The royal couple came back tired, but with a feeling of fulfillment.

XXXXX

It was silent in the tent. A candle was burning in a metal lantern that hung in the middle where Yuuri and Wolfram were sitting, facing each other. The sleeping-bag was pushed aside to make more space. Yuuri was chewing on a slice of dried meat. Wolfram was cutting a chunk of salami into pieces. His jerky actions made Yuuri afraid that he might cut himself. 

“Yuuri,” Wolfram spoke without any preamble, “despite our being incredibly lucky to have you with us, and bringing this situation to an end without too much bloodshed... I do not wish to repeat myself. Your head is worth more than anyone’s in Shin Makoku. And personally, to me, it’s priceless. It makes me furious when you risk your life needlessly.”

Yuuri swallowed what he had in his mouth then uncapped a water-skin to take a few gulps of water. He knew his husband’s worries and it was always the same. Arguing with Wolfram and trying to prove that all lives should be treated equally was pointless – Wolfram thought it was bullshit. As much as Wolfram was angered by Yuuri taking risks, Yuuri, in turn, was furious knowing that Wolfram wouldn’t even hesitate to give his life for him. All of this talk was repetitive. As usual, for the sake of the tradition that had formed during their fourteen years of marriage, Yuuri always took the scolding as deserved, but never promised anything, so it always happened again.

“Fuck it,” Wolfram muttered angrily. It was obvious that Yuuri didn’t regret anything. Wolfram flipped the knife he was using into the air, catching the handle then drove it down forcefully, burying the tip of the blade in the wooden board that was serving as their table. He reached out, grabbing the water-skin from Yuuri’s hand to take a few gulps.

“Don’t curse.”

The blond glared, but stayed silent. 

“You piss me off,” Wolfram said after a few minutes. “You really piss me off,” he spat.

From the corner of the tent where he was putting what was left of their dinner into a travel bag, Yuuri turned around to look at him. Then he turned back to finish tying the bag.

“Well, your orgasms don’t show that,” Yuuri said matter-of-factly.

“I’m serious, asshole!” Wolfram snorted. But the angry edge in his voice was already missing. 

“So am I,” Yuuri sighed. He crawled over to his husband. “It’s just that it’s pointless to argue over things that we know won’t ever change.” He leaned on the blond to kiss his temple. “Right?”

“You seriously piss me off.”

“You sure?”

“Yuuri...”

“Hmm?” Yuuri hummed, sliding his hands to the blond’s waist. 

“I’ll hit you.”

“Of course, you won’t. I really miss kissing you,” Yuuri muttered, nibbling on the column of the pale neck. 

“What the hell are you doing, Yuuri?” Wolfram protested while half-heartedly trying to push his husband away.

“Don’t play coy, Wolfram,” Yuuri muttered, seizing Wolfram’s right wrist. He lifted it and then pressed his mouth to the pulse point, feeling it speed up under his kiss, while Wolfram watched him with his emerald eyes. “You are far from that,” Yuuri said after moving his lips away.

“What’s this supposed to mean?”

“That you like sex very much.”

Wolfram chuckled at that. “Sure I do.”

Yuuri pressed a light kiss to the blond’s mouth. “Can’t wait for your lip to heal,” he said while sliding his hand south to his husband’s crotch.

Wolfram’s eyes closed and Yuuri felt a light shiver pass through the blond’s body.

“You are very good at distracting me from being angry with you,” Wolfram hissed in pleasure as the hand started massaging and kneading. “But if you are planning on leaving me hanging… Believe me, you’ll pay.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Well, if you finally shut your mouth, I could get down to business. Or are you planning on announcing to the entire fort what we’re up to?” He pressed lightly on the blond’s stomach and soon had Wolfram lying on his back. Yuuri unbuckled the blond’s belt. Soon he had the trousers and underwear out of his way. The half-hard length that stood out looked inviting.

“Yuuri?”

“Damn, you really won’t shut up, will you?”

“I just wanted to remind you that it’s been a few days from the last time we washed normally.”

“So what do you want me to do? Give you a bath?” Yuuri asked, seizing the blond’s testicles.

Wolfram gasped. “Well,” he purred then, “it would be a good start if you licked it clean.”

Chuckling, Yuuri crawled over the blond. He lightly touched Wolfram’s lips with his fingers. His breath caught in his throat when the tip of Wolfram’s tongue snuck out to lick at his fingertips. He watched Wolfram’s slender fingers wrap around his wrist for support while the blond sat up. Wolfram sucked on one of his digits.

“Your hand smells of dried meat,” Wolfram said softly while his tongue flicked over the sensitive skin in between Yuuri’s fingers.

Yuuri’s dark eyelashes fluttered at the sensation. “Isn’t very sexy, is it?”

“Mmm, what are you saying?” Wolfram hummed, his tongue sneaking in between other digits. “-Quite the opposite.” His emerald eyes grinned at Yuuri mischievously. “I like dried meat – it’s a solid meal. Much better than…” 

Yuuri’s body tensed with desire as Wolfram’s tongue flicked lightly over his palm, tracing the lines there. 

Wolfram’s eyes still did not leave Yuuri’s “…Much better than the honey you tried before... ” he purred. “It just rots one’s teeth…”

The ticklish erotic sensations were washing over Yuuri’s body. One more minute and it would be not enough. He blinked, coming to his senses when Wolfram let go of his hand.

Yuuri leaned in to press his lips to the blond’s neck. With his left hand, he started unbuttoning the front of Wolfram’s blue uniform and pushing him down to the ground. A few seconds later his wet right hand slid down to encircle his husband’s member. He stroked the length with his palm. Humming in pleasure, Wolfram spread his legs. After few firm strokes, he transferred his kisses to Wolfram’s bare chest and slowly trailed his way downwards.

Wolfram’s smell was much stronger than usual, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was just Wolfram. Pulling the foreskin down, Yuuri flicked his tongue over the slit and into it, making Wolfram gasp. Yuuri sucked on the reddish tip, then his teeth offered a slight pressure to the side. He slowly went down on the blond, while his fingers wrapped around the places that his mouth couldn’t reach. Yuuri started out with a leisure pace.

He watched Wolfram’s eyes close, the tension starting to build in the blond’s body, the member in his mouth hardening. The blond soon was flushed, heat wafting off his skin. His body started wriggling and to keep him still, Yuuri held down his hips. 

Wolfram was trying to keep silent, but from time to time soft sounds were escaping his lips. He tried to muffle them He tried to muffle them with his palm but not so successfully, but not completely successfully.

“Mnh…”

The sight of Wolfram so wanton soon made Yuuri let go of the blond’s hips and reach to his own trousers. After hurriedly unzipping, he grabbed himself and started stroking in tune with his bobbing head.

Wolfram was close. He was desperately trying to push into Yuuri’s mouth as deeply as possible, nearly choking him. Yuuri’s head bobbed faster and faster, gradually making the string in Wolfram’s belly tighten until it was hotly pulsing, making the blond lose all sense.

“Hnh! Ohhh…”

It all exploded when Yuuri’s finger suddenly slipped in between Wolfram’s thighs and into his ass.

“Fuck!” Wolfram gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head, his back arching.

Spurts of erupting seed hit Yuuri in the back of the throat. Choking a little, he swallowed. 

After letting the softened length slide out of his mouth, he concentrated on reaching his own orgasm. After a few strong jerks, he came against Wolfram’s thigh.

After finishing, Yuuri reached out for the cloth that they had used to wipe their hands after their meal. He wiped the seed off his fingers and cleaned up Wolfram. 

“Mmm…” Wolfram lazily turned his head to him. “That was good,” he purred, already half-asleep.

Yuuri raised his head to look at him. “Seriously, I miss kissing you.”

Wolfram gave him a soft smile.

XXXXX

It was late in the night when Yuuri’s deep sleep was disturbed by something touching him.

“Mmm…” Yuuri hummed. He rolled his shoulder. Was Wolfram up for another round? 

The soft kisses and nibbles on his bare shoulder and back continued. Yuuri moaned softly at the pleasant attention. The right side of the sleeping-bag parted and a dark silhouette leaned over Yuuri’s back.

“You smell somehow different. Is that some new… Gah!” the question was suddenly choked off.

“That’s because he’s half-Human, idiot!” Wolfram spat. He sat up, holding the intruder by his neck so that the man was almost hanging over Yuuri. “Get away from my husband!” Wolfram demanded, shoving the man toward the tent door so forcefully that the intruder nearly tumbled over.

A flare of fire sprung in the prince’s left hand, lighting a wide-eyed soldier, and Yuuri, who quickly turned around and was staring at the man at the end of the tent. He pushed himself away from the unfamiliar face.

“Get out!” Wolfram snapped through clenched teeth.

The angry blond’s face was almost enough to send the soldier into shock. He turned to another man who was staring back at him, equally stunned. Wolfram von Bielefeld had called this man “my husband”…

“Your Majesty!” the man scurried to get on his knees. “Your Highness! What a mistake! I’m very… Graghyah!” he gurgled as a heavy boot smashed right into his face.

“Which fucking part of “get out” did you not understand?!” Wolfram hissed. “Unbelievable. The nerve… The nerve of the bastard…” he growled while his hand was already groping for the second boot.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, Sir!” the man blurted before shooting out of the tent as if chased by a hundred fire-lions.

“Damn it,” Wolfram muttered, letting go of the boot that he had finally found and extinguishing the conjured flames. He was already settling back to sleep. “Just try to get a nap and all the perverts are all over you… Yuuri… And to think… Also… And… a wimp… Besides…”

Soon a soft breathing followed. Yuuri exhaled loudly in relief that the storm had passed without breaking on him. 

XXXXX

Yuuri was first to wake up in the morning. He dressed and left the tent, leaving Wolfram to sleep in.

“Your Majesty!”

Startled, Yuuri jumped away from the man who had launched himself at him as soon as he left the tent.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yuuri exhaled when his heart seemed to return to beating regularly.

“Your Majesty! I’m very sorry for what happened last night!” the man spilled out his words with obvious distress. “The last two days I was patrolling in the village and did not know that… I was sure that it was the tent of my friend…”

Yuuri ruffled through his hair, yawned then shrugged. He found the entire thing funny. “Let’s say it never happened.” He scratched his head. “But my husband… Well, Wolfram might be a little vindictive.”

The ill-starred man grabbed at his head, imagining what might happen to him; von Bielefeld’s jealousy was well-known by everyone in the kingdom.

Yuuri waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. If you explain everything truthfully, he’ll just let it go. He’s very reasonable when it comes to it. Well, most of the time,” he added after a second thought. 

After washing up and having a quick look around the fort, Yuuri returned to the tent where he found Wolfram already up and dressing. The two of them then had their breakfast from their supplies. Yuuri noticed that Wolfram was in a very good mood.

“You know,” Wolfram chuckled while pulling his boots on, “I had such an idiotic dream last night... ” He laughed again then raised his head to look at Yuuri. “Some soldier mixed the tents up and forced himself on you.”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri squeaked. “What an interesting dream…”

Suddenly, Yuuri shot to the exit, where after brushing the material aside, he almost collided with the aforementioned soldier. The soldier seemed to have heard what was said by the prince and was unsure as to what to do now. His king’s gaze told him everything: If he ever showed his face to the prince, he was going to be sent deep into the mountains to herd goats for the rest of his life. If he was lucky.

“Yuuri, you’re blocking the exit,” Wolfram complained, smacking his husband on his behind to make him move.

“Ah, sorry,” Yuuri apologized, stepping outside, giving a last glance at the retreating back of the soldier.

They set off soon after talking with the second-in-command. Yuuri decided to leave the fort functioning for awhile to ensure that there was no threat left. The journey back was much less stressful. Sometimes Yuuri felt like he was on a picnic. He wished that they could travel like this forever.

TBC


	10. Part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Credits go for my beta-reader Melisenda for writing this in one of the letters: “Oh..... I just thought, I would LOVE to see Asami visit, get drunk and spill Yuuri's secret!!! And Wolfram would NOT hit Yuuri.... but man.... Yuuri would wish he would, just to try to get rid of HIS guilt! Actually.... it might help to put them back on balance. Get them to forgive each other, so that one is not always bad (Wolfram) and the other always innocent (Yuuri).”

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 10

A few days after coming back from the fort, Wolfram resumed his search for a candidate for an Entrusted Lady. As Yuuri wanted to have nothing to do with this, Wolfram was doing it discreetly, usually using his old room to meet the ladies or even visiting the families that lived close enough.

As predicted, the news of Wolfram searching for a woman to bear his child was taken differently by Yuuri’s mother and father. Miko instantly fell in love with the idea and started making a list of boys’ and girls’ names. She was constantly asking when Yuuri would start trying for a child. Hating the topic and the constant interrogations, Yuuri decided not to visit his parents for a while.

Shoma Shibuya was another matter. He understood Yuuri’s frustration and anxiety, and was worried that it might permanently damage Yuuri and Wolfram’s relationship. He had never mentioned it to his youngest son, but he had been very happy about Yuuri and Wolfram’s successful union. He could see that with Wolfram, Yuuri felt fulfilled and loved. Being a man of a few words, Shoma did not express his worries about the current situation to Yuuri. He hoped for the best, but was apprehensively waiting for the worst.

Wolfram had no particular idea what he was looking for. He didn't have any specific requirements for character or looks. He didn't have much experience with women either, so it made it even harder to choose. To top it off, there was another matter. The nine women whom he had seen so far…all of them were missing one important thing – a penis, and then had two things too many – breasts. Wolfram understood that with this point of view, he wasn’t ever going to find anyone. All he was doing now was just hoping to see a woman and go: “Yes, I want this one to bear my child.” This wasn’t going to happen, he knew that. He probably would end up spreading all the application forms on his desk, closing his eyes and just choosing one of them randomly.

Compatibility of bodies and appearance usually played a great part in choosing a partner. He hoped that maybe it would happen as it happened for him with Yuuri’s scent. He had noticed Yuuri immediately and it was probably the reason why he had fallen in love with Yuuri so quickly, even though he had considered Yuuri an unworthy weakling and wimp, and hated him at first. After his mother’s Orchid Perfume had worn off, and he had been able to sense Yuuri’s own scent, his feelings began to change. He loved and enjoyed the scent. And when Yuuri’s usual scent turned into that of lust and desire, he could never say or even think about saying “no” to Yuuri. His orgasms left him breathless and shaken to the core. Yuuri was a half-breed, his sense of smell was not that sharp, and Wolfram wasn’t sure that it was the same for Yuuri.

XXXXX

“Why so gloomy?” Asami asked. He was sitting in a comfortable armchair at arm’s reach from the table. He looked out the dark windows where reflections of glimmering candles could be seen. “Don’t tell me you already miss Yuuri; he only left a few hours ago.”

It was late evening, and he and Wolfram were sitting in the royal chambers where they had moved right after dinner. Yuuri was absent, visiting Kyota’s stepfather to negotiate the possibility of building a school in his lands.

“Aren’t you drinking anymore?” Asami wondered when, after refilling Asami’s glass, Wolfram left his own glass empty.

Wolfram walked over to him and held out the filled glass. “Yuuri thinks that I’ve started turning into an alcoholic. I’m forbidden to drink more than one glass when he’s absent,” the prince explained.

“Isn’t he being a bit too much?” Asami frowned while taking the wine.

Wolfram walked back to the cupboard, where he poured himself some juice. “I don’t think so,” he shook his head as he came back and seated himself opposite Asami. “It was starting to become a serious addiction. I see that now,” he said, sipping his juice.

“Hmm…” Asami leaned forward and clinked his glass with the blond’s. He smiled. “It feels nice when he worries about you, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yeah,” Wolfram agreed, reddening lightly.

Asami took a sip from his glass. The wine slid down his throat pleasantly. He sighed, content. “Not bad at all. So... how are you two doing?” he asked then. “You seem tired, and Yuuri gave me the impression of being overwhelmed by everything.”

In a few gulps Wolfram emptied his glass. He pushed it onto the table and leaned into his armchair. “It’s just as you said. I’m tired. I'm tired because I don’t have any idea what I’m looking for and it’s been dragging on. And Yuuri is too tired to fight his emotions anymore. He seems to have resigned himself to just accept anything I might do.”

“Hmm…” Asami wondered, “You are unbelievably open today.” He took his glasses off and started wiping them on his shirt.

Wolfram reclined his head, resting it on the neck-roll of his chair, to stare at the ceiling. “Just as you said – I’m tired.”

Asami lifted his glasses to check them for flecks, then, satisfied with how they looked, put them back on. “Am I being a nuisance? Would you rather go to sleep?”

“No,” Wolfram shook his head. “It’s a different kind of tired.”

For a few moments they sat in a comfortable silence, Asami sipping his wine, Wolfram staring at the ceiling, both submerged in their thoughts.

“You know,” Asami said, “you are very lucky to have married Yuuri. I don’t think I’d ever be able to allow something like this. It would drive me crazy.”

“Nobody is saying that this isn’t driving him crazy,” Wolfram muttered. “Why the hell do you think he left for a few days? He knows what I’m doing when I’m not in my study or in the Castle… He never asks and I never talk about it... but it eats at him.”

Asami rubbed his forehead. “This is so messed up.” He sighed. “No, I’d definitely not be able to allow that. Knowing that my woman…”

“I’m a man, Asami, a man. You sometimes seem to confuse things.”

“I was talking about myself, moron.”

“Don’t call me a moron. And let’s drop this topic – it makes me want to howl at the top of my lungs.”

“Pour me another one.”

Wolfram got up, sighing. “Fine, fine.” He took the empty glass from Asami and went to the cupboard. After filling it, thinking that it would save some time, he also took the bottle of wine and the carafe of juice to the table.

“You know,” Asami said while sipping his fifth glass, “I’d been very skeptical of your and Yuuri’s marriage at first. But then I saw how happy he was, and you appeared not to be as bad as I had imagined at first.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your illusion.” Wolfram reached for carafe on the table to pour himself some juice.

“Well, I knew that your engagement was actually Yuuri’s “fault”,” Asami lifted his hands to make quotation-marks with his fingers, “but… But really, I thought that you were in for Yuuri’s status and money.” 

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “About the third of the kingdom and most foreign countries still think that, so don’t worry about it.” 

“I see…” Asami drawled. “Is he any good in bed?”

Wolfram choked on his juice. “Asami, you are drunk,” he said after getting his breath back and wiping his lips. He put the half-empty glass onto the table. Why inevitably, after a few glasses, did conversations always turn this way? When drinking, Kyota, for example, could never shut up about his sexual exploits. Or was it that liquor only made the tongue looser and made it spill what was constantly on one’s mind? Even he himself, when drunk, for some reason, his thoughts always went south.

“Yes, Asami, if you insist on knowing,” Wolfram said, stressing every word, “he satisfies me very well.”

Asami waved with his hand drunkenly. “Don’t mind the question. It’s just that when we were both in school, I’d have never thought that he might be bisexual.”

Wolfram gave him a long stare. He was already familiar with the opinions of many of the people on Earth. “Do you think I’ve “corrupted” him?”

His tone was a bit challenging, and, laughing, Asami waved his hand again. “I thought so at first, but after your first time, he told me that it was amazing. Obviously he wouldn’t have thought that if he hadn’t been bi from the start.” Asami took another sip from his glass.

Wolfram stared at him, his face red. “Does he always tell you everything?” he stuttered finally. He would have never guessed that Yuuri and Asami discussed these things. Yuuri hadn’t seemed one to wash his dirty linen in public. And to top it all off…why the heck was Yuuri lying?

“Hm?” Asami blinked at him. “But I told him about my first girlfriend, too.”

“Actually, no,” Wolfram said suddenly, surprising himself. “He lied. Our first time was a disaster.”

“Oh, no, no,” Asami laughed, “he wasn’t talking about THAT time. That one doesn’t count. You didn’t really do…”

“Oh, shut up, shut up,” Wolfram groaned. If Asami kept this up, he would have to open another bottle and join Asami. Or just go to sleep. He would have to talk to Yuuri about this.

“Actually… Well, I’m just curious,” Asami continued. “Have you ever been interested in other guys or women?”

Wolfram blinked at Asami. So now their conversation reached this point… Anything he said inevitably was going to reach Yuuri. “Women don’t interest me at all. Men… Well, looking doesn’t hurt anyone, does it?” With Yuuri ogling nearly every woman he met, Wolfram had decided he also had the right to feast his eyes.

“Well, yeah, looking is fine,” Asami agreed enthusiastically. “I like pretty chicks. Yuuri also likes them. It seems that sometimes even too much,” he giggled. “He said that…” Asami’s voice caught in his throat. It was too late, though. Wolfram had his eyes locked on him. Oh shit. He had had one or two glasses too many to let his tongue fly like that. It was too late to try and cover up all of this with some lame excuse – Wolfram would not buy it.

“I’d like to hear the rest,” Wolfram said with a soft smile that had nothing to do with the look in his eyes. “About how he likes them a bit too much.”

Asami scratched his head nervously then pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

“Did he fuck someone?”

“No!” Asami denied quickly, now seriously worrying. “I think it all more or less ended with heavy flirting in some bar or…” Was it him or was his every word making Wolfram even more furious? He really should have not drunk with Wolfram alone.

“Asami…” Wolfram drawled in a dangerous tone, “Don’t play with me. I might reconsider restoring interrogation with torture… His exact words or actions, what were they?” 

“Haaahh…” Asami swallowed. “Well, he said that there were some close ones. That’s what he said.”

“Close ones?” Wolfram repeated. “Close ones?!” He stood up. “I’m gonna kill that bastard!”

Asami groaned. Yuuri would never ever talk to him again. He had jeopardized his best friend’s marriage. “But probably nothing happened. He just…”

“Snogging somewhere in a dirty corner…” Wolfram hissed, not hearing him. He was already storming toward the door. “Damn cheating wimp. I’ll really kill the fucker! Always playing the wronged one… Wait till you come back home, bastard!”

Asami was left staring at the closed door. He cursed loudly then decided that the best option was to go to sleep. The plan on how to beg Yuuri’s forgiveness would have to be worked out tomorrow.

XXXXX

Yuuri came back three days later, right in time for dinner. He could not understand why, when, as usual after a long trip, he started to give his husband a greeting kiss, but Wolfram ducked it then hissed at him like a snake and marched into the dining room alone. During the entire meal, he was offered only cold glares.

“What’s with him?” Yuuri whispered to Murata after the meal, when they were dispersing into their rooms.

Murata turned to him. He clapped Yuuri on the shoulder. “I don’t really know. But you have my condolences – I’m sure that you’ll have it tough tonight.”

Yuuri could only stare at Murata’s retreating back. Not sure what caused his husband’s bad mood, he decided to give him some time to cool off and went to the baths. But on entering the royal chamber, it was obvious that Wolfram’s mood hadn’t changed. Once glance at the blond’s tense figure, standing in the half-light of the candles on the table, told him that Murata had been right. There was a storm coming, and it was going to be a bad one. Before Yuuri could say a word, Wolfram moved, suddenly crossing the room with swift angry strides, grabbing a handful of Yuuri’s shirt and driving him backwards. Wolfram’s free arm was cocked back, his hand closed into a fist, ready to strike as he stared at Yuuri, rage clear in his eyes.

Stunned, Yuuri stared back, his mind blank, not even trying to figure out what this was about. There was no reason for Wolfram to be like this.

“So what about those close ones, Yuuri?!” Wolfram hissed into his face after a long few seconds, lowering his hand back to his side.

Obviously not comprehending what his husband was saying, Yuuri stared at him for a few moments. Then the light dawned and his face showed that he understood.

“Always the innocent one!” Wolfram spat, shoving away from Yuuri. “The wronged one! And what the fuck have you been doing behind my back this entire time?! What the hell did you do in Delam this time?! Frequenting taverns and fucking every whore around?!”

“Of course not,” Yuuri said in a calm tone, as he hoped that Wolfram would imitate him and they would be able to talk this out, “nothing like that.”

His calm tone was misunderstood. 

“Why the fuck are you so calm about this, bastard?!” Wolfram yelled at him. “Do you even care?!”

“I’m not calm, and I do care, Wolfram. I just want for us to sit down and for you to listen to me. Because I know that while you’re busy shouting, you never hear anything that's said to you.”

“I’m sorry for shouting, you unfaithful fucker!” Wolfram spat. “I’m sorry for even being angry with my cheating husband! Is that what you want to hear?!”

“Wolfram, calm down!” Yuuri grabbed the blond’s shoulders and shook him. “Stop spouting nonsense!” He pushed Wolfram backwards until his legs pressed against their bed. He applied more pressure to the blond’s shoulders and had him seated, then he sat down next to Wolfram. Anger and hurt were reflected on Wolfram’s face, but at least he wasn’t mindlessly shouting anymore.

“Nothing happened,” Yuuri said. “It was long time ago and it was just a few kisses. I was drunk, so was she. It ended with that.”

Wolfram smacked at Yuuri’s chest angrily. “Liar!”

“I’m not lying, Wolfram. Her boyfriend saw us and punched me a good one then dragged her away home. That was the end of it.”

“Yuuri, you do realize that you’re only making it worse, don’t you?” Wolfram grated out between clinched teeth.

“Well, you wanted the truth, right? That’s how it was. I cannot change that event. I’m a guilty bastard, just as you said. I was a real jerk.”

“So much for a squabble with people wanting to steal your car,” Wolfram interjected.

Yuuri reddened; Wolfram had a good memory. “I couldn’t have possibly told you the real reason for the bruise. I was too ashamed as it was. Getting drunk and trying to get into one of my former classmate’s girlfriend’s panties during the reunion… That was rich. After sobering up, I thought that I would have been smarter if I had brought you and introduced you to them as my husband.” He took Wolfram’s hands into his and, as Wolfram did not object, he thought it was a good sign. “I’m sorry, Wolfram. I really am. You know that I love you,” Yuuri muttered kissing his husband’s face. “I was drunk and stupid. I don’t even remember her name or face.” He let go of Wolfram’s hands and slid his own to the blond’s waist, then to his back.

Wolfram pushed at Yuuri’s shoulders angrily, almost shoving Yuuri off the bed. “Let go!” Glaring at Yuuri, he stood up. “You think that’s good enough? ‘I don’t remember her name?’ Like shit. You wanted to fuck her. Me... You punch me in the face twice because I’m bound by honor and duty. But you....? A little drink and you choose to betray me. So, fuck you, Yuuri. Use your right hand if you want sex tonight, because I won’t be here.”

Yuuri slumped, defeated. “Wolfram…”

“Don’t talk to me, cheater!”

Yuuri flinched as the door slammed with nearly enough force to break the windows in the chamber. All he could do now was hope that this would not destroy what little of the trust between them. 

“That Asami bastard!” Yuuri hissed.

XXXXX

To Yuuri’s immense relief there were no threats of divorce, although Wolfram did not talk to him for a week. He was also sleeping in his old room. All tries to talk him into coming back to their bed ended up with Wolfram giving him the finger. 

It was late in the evening of the seventh day when Wolfram, wearing pajamas and carrying his uniform and boots, entered the royal chambers. Yuuri made sure to look as welcoming and hospitable as possible. While Wolfram was wordlessly delving in their wardrobe, Yuuri put the book he had been reading aside and lifted the cover from the blond’s side of the bed. 

After putting his clothes in the wardrobe, still without a word, Wolfram walked to the bed. He flopped onto it and an air-whiff of freshly washed hair and body reached Yuuri.

“Are you done punishing me?”

Wolfram turned to Yuuri with an icy glare. He stared, but then his eyes started to soften. “Yeah, probably,” Wolfram muttered, turning away and lifting his feet of the carpet to get into the bed. “You know,” he said quietly after covering his legs, “actually, I even feel somewhat relieved. Your guilt made me feel less guilty about doing this to you.” 

Yuuri stayed silent for some time, thinking about what the blond had just said. “As if the scales have balanced?” he sighed then. “Yeah, I suppose I understand what you mean.”

They stayed silent, just sitting next to each other in their shared bed. Yuuri was watching Wolfram while the blond was staring at his lap with the cover rumpled on it. He seemed to be doing some serious thinking.

“Am I forgiven?” Yuuri asked softly, moving closer to his husband.

Wolfram turned his head to him. “I did come here tonight, didn’t I?” He ruffled through his hair. “I…thought about this for quite a long time. I don’t want things from the past to haunt us. What is needed right now is trust between us, and it has become too strained recently. I know that you love me, you know that I love you, but in the end it all comes down to trust, doesn’t it? I’ve decided that I’ll trust you, and it would be for the best if we just forget the rest. But…” he leaned his face close to Yuuri’s, his emerald eyes burning dangerously, “gods and goddesses both help you if I ever hear about or see you doing something like that again. With a clear conscience, I’ll kill both of you.”

Yuuri stared at his husband. He was reminded of his similar statement a few months ago on Earth. Both of them were afraid of exactly the same thing. Yuuri felt as if a stone had been lifted off his chest. And… “Thank you. You won’t ever need to worry. And I won’t go to the class reunion alone. And won’t drink that much. Promise.”

Wolfram turned away and reclined his head to stare at the ceiling. “Moron. They won’t even send the invitation the next time. You’re really an idiot to get drunk and make a fool of yourself in front of your former classmates.”

Yuuri ruffled through his dark hair. “Ahh… I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“What about Asami?”

“He doesn’t really…he doesn’t like such gatherings, so he never goes anyway and wouldn’t know anything.”

“Not that. I mean how it is now with you and him?”

Yuuri sighed. “Well… He’ll be very relieved to hear that we made up.”

“He probably was very worried and apologized a lot, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri nodded. “Mmm… Well, we’ll make up,” he said, not wanting to think about details.

“Yuuri, regarding Asami... I want you to think about what you say to Asami about our sex life. When he started talking about our first time…I felt really, really…well, it was weird.”

Yuuri scratched his head. “That was a really long time ago. Well, it’s not that I went into details. I was just… After the first time I wanted to share my anxiety with someone. After the second time I was just happy. I don’t really see why it’s a big deal in this. We just talk about this and that over a bottle, just to... He was simply drunk. He didn’t try to insult you, did he?” 

“No, he didn’t.” Wolfram let out a long sigh. He supposed Yuuri was just a common male, wanting to brag about his exploits. “Well, alright. Just restrain yourself from talking about too personal things.”

Yuuri nodded. “Sure.” Thinking that the serious part was over, he leaned in. “Is your mouth okay? Can I kiss you?” He smiled as, instead of answering, Wolfram turned his body to him, wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pressed his lips to his. Obviously he had guessed right.

Excited by short gentle nibbles on his lips, Yuuri brushed over the blond’s lower lip with his tongue then sucked on it. Sliding his hands to the blond’s shoulders then to his head and the nape of his neck, he deepened the kiss.

“Mmm…” Yuuri purred. He had missed this. With his tongue he could feel two small and hard knobs that had erupted through the tissue and were growing back in place of the old teeth. He brushed over them again.

Wolfram squirmed against him and turned his head aside, breaking the kiss.

“What?”

“The tissue is ticklish.”

“Oh. Do you feel the urge to chew on something?”

“Huh?”

“You know like babies do when they have their teeth growing?”

Not sure if Yuuri was just playing with him or talking seriously, Wolfram thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said then. “I haven’t noticed anything like that.”

“I just thought about getting you something to chew on.” Yuuri grinned. “Like a rubber duck or a teething toy.”

“Quit blabbering nonsense.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Aww…and I think it would look so cute.”

“I’d look like a demented bastard,” Wolfram corrected him, leaning in to cover Yuuri’s mouth with his, at the same time pushing his husband down into the bedding, across the bed.

“Hmm…” Yuuri hummed into the kiss. Then their mouths parted and he let himself being maneuvered until his back touched the sheets. “Feeling like being on top today?” he muttered against Wolfram’s mouth, close to his again after the blond had crawled over him. The prince’s palms now were at both sides of Yuuri’s head, Wolfram’s legs straddling him.

Wolfram raised his head to grin at his husband. “What if I do?”

Yuuri chuckled. “Well, you’re very welcome, then.”

With a mischievous grin, the prince lowered his head again. Yuuri closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the feelings that were starting to build. Wolfram was very good at kissing, and Yuuri loved the pleasant activity. 

Wolfram’s right hand was sliding up and down his husband’s chest, the pajama top creasing under the caresses. Yuuri soon felt Wolfram’s fingers starting to unbutton his pajama top. Once done, Wolfram pushed the cloth out of his way and then his mouth retreated from Yuuri’s to leave burning trails of kisses on his chest. 

The prince’s tongue circled the left bud. He caught it between his teeth and pulled lightly. Yuuri squirmed, his hips rising up. Wolfram played with the hardened nipple then transferred his attention to the right. He felt a light pressure on his head. Yuuri was gently but insistently trying to push him downwards. 

Giving in into the unrelenting urging, Wolfram’s mouth moved south. After reaching the waistband of Yuuri’s pajama bottoms, he raised his head. Licking his swollen lips, he climbed off his husband and started working Yuuri’s pants off. 

“Come here,” Yuuri sat up to grab the blond by his waist as soon as he was done with Yuuri’s pajamas and underwear. “Oof,” he exhaled as Wolfram fell onto his lap with a soft thud. Yuuri’s hands rose to fumble with the buttons on his husband’s shirt. 

“Why are the buttons on your shirts always so small?” Yuuri half complained half purred, leaning in to capture the blond’s lips.

“They are exactly the same as yours,” Wolfram mumbled against his husband’s mouth. “It’s you who are too impatient.”

“Oh,” Yuuri chuckled, his lips sliding over the blond’s chin and to his neck. He kissed the pale skin then nibbled on the Adam’s apple. Wolfram smelled of freshness and a shower gel that added a citrus scent to the blond’s skin. 

Yuuri finished unbuttoning his husband’s pajama top and brushed it off the blond’s shoulders. Wolfram lowered his arms, and the shirt slipped off him neatly to pool behind him. Then the prince freed himself from his husband’s arms and slid off the bed. Tossing the shirt onto the floor, he opened the drawer of the nightstand next to their bed. After retrieving the needed tube, he threw it next to Yuuri then pulled his pajama bottoms off. 

Yuuri reached for the blond and, wrapping his fingers around his wrist, he dragged Wolfram back into the bed. His fingers playing with the wedding bracelet, Yuuri pulled his husband close for another kiss. Lately, Wolfram didn’t take the band off even when bathing. Even though it pleased Yuuri, the bracelet had lost its shine. He thought about telling Wolfram about it, but…later.

The prince pushed at his husband’s chest to have Yuuri lying underneath him. With his palms, he brushed over the pointed nubs to entice them further. Appreciating the attention, Yuuri’s arms wrapped around the blond’s shoulders and neck. Wolfram moved south. Ignoring the hard length that was demandingly pointing upwards, he took the tube and squeezed out some of the contents onto his fingers. Then he slid his hand in between his husband’s legs, and Yuuri shifted, spreading his legs to give him better access.

Wolfram slid his index finger inside. Yuuri did not seem to be uncomfortable and, after pushing it in and out a few times, Wolfram added another one. He crooked his fingers.

“Mhmm…” Yuuri hummed to show Wolfram that he had found what he had been looking for.

The massage of the gland made Yuuri spread his legs wider. The strengthening waves of pleasure made him rhythmically clamp and unclamp on the blond’s fingers. Soon he was going to reach the point from which there was only one way.

Yuuri licked his lips when the fingers slipped out of him. Wolfram reached for his pillow that was lying next to his husband’s head. Yuuri lifted his hips and, Wolfram pushed it under his backside. He reached for the tube of lubricant again and coated his member. He maneuvered himself so that he was now between Yuuri’s spread legs and started pushing in. He slid in quite easily, Yuuri not showing any signs of discomfort. He started taking deeper breaths to relax himself, but that was it.

Once fully sheathed, Wolfram waited for a few moments to let his husband adjust to the intrusion then carefully pulled out so that only the tip stayed inside and pushed back. Yuuri grunted at the few first thrusts then his hips started following the rhythm. The muscles in his neck relaxed, and his head settled comfortably onto the pillow, his eyes closing.

“Mmm… that’s good,” Yuuri hummed after a minute of the leisurely rhythm. Wolfram was slow, the thrusts measured and full. Yuuri’s lower lip was caught between his teeth. “This is really…ohhh…good…” He wrapped his arms around Wolfram’s neck and shoulders, the blond resting his head on the crook of Yuuri’s shoulder.

They kept the deliberate pace for another few minutes, but it soon started to put a strain on their bodies. Yuuri started to sweat. He was burning from the inside, the irresistible impulse to increase the pressure swamping his senses. His fingers scrapped across the blond’s shoulders.

“Faster.” His hand moved to his groin but was intercepted halfway, Wolfram pushing it aside then entwining their fingers and pressing their hands into the bedding not giving Yuuri another opportunity to touch himself. This time it was his turn to tease Yuuri.

Yuuri’s soft moans and grunts were becoming desperate. Wolfram could feel slick wetness between their stomachs. At some point Yuuri had wrapped his legs around him. He was also as impatient as Yuuri, but wanted to draw this out at least for another five minutes. He raised his head to look at Yuuri.

Looking at Yuuri’s face had been a mistake. The expression of pure unfulfilled lust struck Wolfram hard. He could hardly contain himself anymore. Plans about prolonging the pleasure fled his head and his hips slammed into Yuuri with a new pace.

“Oh yes,” Yuuri moaned, his eyes rolling upwards in his head. “Oh, yes, fuck me silly.”

“Shit,” Wolfram panted, not caring about drawing this out anymore. Yuuri’s mindless groans dissolved any of the resolve that he had, and he started pounding with all the pent up lust he had in his body.

Their bodies meshed fervently with loud slaps of flesh against flesh, pants and groans echoing in the chambers.

“I’m going…” Yuuri groaned, his fingers digging deeper into Wolfram’s shoulders, his other hand squeezing the blond’s mindlessly, his toes curling. “I’m… Ughn!”

Yuuri’s back arched, his head falling back with a loud cry. He started spilling between their stomachs.

Wolfram gasped at the almost painful restriction around him and then he was undone, his own body arching, blood pounding in his ears, his mouth open with a soundless cry.

Returning to his senses, Wolfram felt Yuuri stroking his back. He purred at the pleasant sensation that added to his afterglow. He wanted to stay like this longer, but then Yuuri rolled them over, and he slipped out from between Yuuri’s thighs. Dizzily, he answered Yuuri’s deep kisses.

“What’s with your orgasms?”

“Mmm?” Wolfram hummed contentedly.

“I’m not one to complain, but I don’t think that they’re really normal.”

“Mmm?”

Yuuri stroked the blond locks then shrugged. “Never mind.” He chuckled when Wolfram did exactly that and after snuggling as close to him as possible was out in an instant. Yuuri looked around then grabbed his pajama top laying next to him, cleaning himself as best as he could and followed his husband into the land of dreams.

XXXXX

“Mmm…?” Yuuri shifted in the bed. Still half-asleep, he opened his eyes to look for the sound that that woke him up. Feelings of relief and fulfillment filled him when he saw Wolfram standing at the window. Right, he and Wolfram made up. Yuuri smiled unconsciously. The wind was howling outside. Was that rain?

“It’s started raining; I closed the window,” Wolfram explained, brushing the curtains back over the now closed window. He reached the bed and climbed back into it. 

Yuuri hummed something again then turned on his side to spoon up behind his husband’s back. A few seconds after wrapping his arm around the blond’s waist, he fell asleep again.

XXXXX

The morning was rainy, but the day brightened in the afternoon, and Wolfram decided to invite his guest for a walk in the garden. The count of the women that he had met had reached fifteen. This one was nothing exceptional. He had seen Lady Buanta a few times earlier during various occasions. Her application said that she was a full-blooded Mazoku, a user of Earth element, aged twenty-one, although she looked older. Her appearance was pleasant and Wolfram thought that there was everything alright with her figure, but she wasn’t a beauty. She had blonde hair, similar to Wolfram’s own. The blue eyes were mostly lowered and when they looked up, Wolfram thought that he could recognize bafflement and embarrassment. She also seemed somewhat stiff in that puffed out blue dress, even though she was keeping up the conversation about horses with a precise ease. 

Once they sat down on a bench in the garden, Wolfram gave her an opportunity to question him. She asked him about Cecilie and his brothers then their conversation reached a full stop. A few seconds of silence passed and she reddened then started fidgeting with the ribbons of her dress. 

From the application that he had been given earlier, Wolfram knew that her family was deeply in debt. It was obvious that this was a desperate try to get the needed money. Heseren Buanta was the only child of her parents. Wolfram had seen her father, Ohar Buanta, a few times in conferences and banquets, and he had struck Wolfram as a very strict man. He also remembered seeing Halian Buanta, Heseren’s mother, whom he remembered only because she had looked like a cornered housewife dutifully following her husband everywhere he went and endorsing anything he said.

The daughter gave Wolfram a similar impression, even though it seemed that she was trying hard to appear confident and dazzling. Wolfram did not know what he was looking for, but this woman was far from that obscure image he had in his head.

Wolfram stood up from the bench. “Well, I think we should end this here today,” he said politely. “I’ll send my response directly to Sir Buanta.”

“Thank you,” Heseren said, taking the offered hand and also standing up.

Heseren’s face showed that she understood that she had been rejected. Wolfram noticed there was some regret, but it did not seem that she was overly disappointed. 

Wolfram’s brows creased in a frown when, after he took Heseren’s hand, the folds of her sleeve opened up, and, just above her wrist, he saw a few marks that were suspiciously similar to handprints. They were carefully powdered, but the bruises were unmistakably there.

“What’s this?” Wolfram asked, brushing the cloth aside.

Heseren nearly jerked her hand out of his. She lowered her arms so that the sleeves would completely cover them, just like earlier. 

“I see,” Wolfram said finally when she stayed quiet. He sighed and sat back down onto the bench. For some reason he felt like telling her the truth. Was it because he wanted to at least show her some justice? “I’ll send a letter to your father with my refusal, you know it. You… I think you need to find a proper man. I don’t want to ruin your life. The way things are now... We both would just regret it.”

Heseren just stood next to the bench, with her head lowered, still keeping silent, and Wolfram took it as an agreement. He stood up and turned towards the gate. Heseren followed the prince for a few meters down the path then suddenly grabbed him by his sleeve.

“Your Highness…”

Wolfram stopped and turned around, but she did not let go of his sleeve. 

“Your Highness,” she repeated in a strong voice, which, despite her huge effort, shook at times, “if you reject me, I’ll be made to marry someone chosen by my father. Your Highness is a good and honorable man. Please, do not turn me down, Your Highness.”

Perplexed, Wolfram watched the young woman. She had let go of his sleeve and was now looking at him expectantly.

“You silly girl, you don’t know that I’m good, even less that I’m honorable,” Wolfram muttered.

“Your Highness,” Heseren spoke again. “I have already met two candidates to be my husband. Your Highness is the third man I’ve been offered to. This is why I’m asking Your Highness to pick me as your surrogate, your Entrusted Lady.”

Wolfram ruffled through his hair. “So I’m the best option so far?” This was the first time he had been turned into one of the options just like the women he had met and it made him feel as if he and Heseren were in the same boat. And he had to agree that the woman was much bolder than he had thought at first; it must have cost her a lot of dignity and strength to speak up. With years, she would make a fine woman.

“Alright,” Wolfram nodded finally, “let me think about this for a day or two.”

XXXXX

Two days later the prince sent an invitation for Heseren to meet with him after having checked her and her family more thoroughly. According to Yozak, the servants described the family just as Wolfram had understood: a despotic father, a cornered wife and a daughter who had suddenly turned into a possibility to bring at least some financial relief to the family. In fact, it wasn’t that untypical a family.

“Your Highness,” Heseren bowed after entering Wolfram’s study.

Wolfram stood up in greeting then offered the chair opposite his desk. He also sat down. Out of habit he ruffled through the documents on his desk then pushed them aside. He put his hands onto the desk, crossed his fingers and leaned into his chair. 

Today Heseren Buanta looked much more confident in herself. Wolfram knew that Heseren already presumed that that he had called for her to give her a positive answer – he wouldn’t have bothered to invite her otherwise. 

“Lady Buanta, let’s make a deal, then,” Wolfram spoke. “You will bear me an heir and for that you will get your own estate to govern. I’ll repay your father’s obligations, but any further connection is only between you and me. After the child reaches the age of five, you can choose whether you want to stay with the child in Blood Pledge Castle or move away to your estate.” Then Wolfram added: “Of course, it’s only natural that as a mother of my child, I’d prefer that you stayed by his side. But even if you choose to leave, you’ll have a right to see the child whenever you wish.” 

Heseren nodded silently, thinking.

“You won’t be tied down. After the child reaches five years old, you are free to do anything you want with your life,” Wolfram continued. “You can marry or just continue to carry the title of an Entrusted Lady.”

Heseren’s lips formed a somewhat sardonic smile. “It’s really different from what I thought my life would be when I still was a kid…” Then she nodded in agreement. “But it’s much more than I could have expected. I accept the deal, Your Highness.”

“Good,” Wolfram said, relieved, hoping that this part was finally done. He took a paper case from his desk and held it out for Heseren. “Then sign these papers. After putting your signature on them you’ll become my Entrusted Lady.” Wolfram then gave Heseren a look that puzzled her. “As you will find out after reading the document, a part of the deal is the agreement that approaching His Majesty on your own is strictly forbidden. Breaking this rule will result in you breaching the contract and I’ll send you back to your father.”

Heseren’s hand faltered over the documents. “His Majesty doesn’t approve of me?” she asked, obviously alarmed and confused. She lowered her hand, not taking the documents. “I’m sorry to say this, but if His Majesty doesn’t like me, I’ll have to refuse; it will be too troublesome to live here.”

Lost, Wolfram ruffled through his hair. He lowered the documents back to the table. He had presumed that this might cause some hesitation, but he had not thought that Heseren would refuse out right. “Mm… It’s not really like that. Actually His Majesty doesn’t even know you,” he started explaining. “I was allowed to have an Entrusted Lady only with the condition that it is done discreetly.” Wolfram watched the young woman, hoping that she understood him.

“I did not know that His Majesty was a jealous sort…” Heseren said with a smile. The smile soon faded, replaced by worry about her future. “What about leaving the Castle? Going for a walk?” she questioned.

“Ehhh… Well, as the wing you’ll be staying at is nearly the opposite end of the Castle from ours, I mean, His Majesty’s” Wolfram corrected himself, “it shouldn’t cause any trouble. You can leave and return whenever you wish, but it would be best if you told someone before leaving the Castle. When you become the Entrusted Lady of the Prince Consort you might also become a target for kidnappers and various machinations, so you should have an escort before going anywhere.” 

Heseren nodded. She had figured that much earlier.

Wolfram thought for a moment. “Actually it’s the same wing where the Great Sage is staying with his big family,” he said then. “So I don’t think that you would be lonely there – his wives are quite lively and I’m sure you can make friends with them. You are also allowed to hire your own servants and bring your friends over. As said, I won’t restrict you in any way except for…avoiding His Majesty.”

“So I won’t even able to sit at the same table with Your Highness?” Heseren asked.

At this point Wolfram felt really uncomfortable. “Yes, it would seem so,” he admitted.

Heseren sighed then shrugged. “Well, nobody said it was going to be easy, right?” She held out her hand to take the documents. 

It took Heseren several minutes to read through them. “This really is like a business deal,” she opined after taking a pen that was offered by Wolfram.

Wolfram nodded. “So there should be no misunderstanding of where we each stand.”

Heseren raised her eyes from the document. “It says here that if I don’t get pregnant in half a year then the deal is called off.”

“Yes, this is right,” Wolfram nodded.

“And what if it’s Your Highness’ fault?”

Wolfram chuckled. “Well, I suppose we won’t know that until I take another Entrusted Lady.” He laughed softly, amused. “If it appears to be the truth, I’ll offer some compensation. Let’s say ten thousand. Is this alright?” 

Heseren also laughed. “Yes, it’s alright.” She was grateful that the way the prince was presenting all this was easing the tension, even when the matter was very serious. 

Wolfram took the document from Heseren to include the new subsection then gave it back to her.

She read the newly added paragraph and started to sign but then raised her hand and rolled the pen between her fingers. “What if it’s a girl?” she asked.

Wolfram gave her a smile that spoke volumes. “Then it means that we’ll have more children than we originally intended and will have to try again.”

TBC


	11. Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: implications of heterosexual…sex? Hell, I never thought I’d have to write a warning like this.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 11

When Yuuri entered the royal chambers, Wolfram was on the sofa, lying on his stomach, his stocking feet put on the armrest. There were pillows under his chest and stomach, and he was reading. The sun was setting, but as the sofa was next to the window, one could still do without a candle. 

Wolfram didn’t acknowledge either the sounds of the opening and closing door or Yuuri’s steps. He yelped loudly in surprise when Yuuri smacked him on his behind. With his eyes wide, his head turned to his husband.

“Don’t,” Wolfram swallowed hard, trying to force his heart out of his throat. “Don’t fucking ever do that again,” he finished getting over his scare.

“Don’t curse,” Yuuri smacked Wolfram on his bottom again. “Here, your dinner.” He tossed Wolfram an apple which the blond caught while clumsily turning to his side. The king seated himself next to his husband. With his head he motioned at the pile of papers in front of his husband. “Is this the reason you skipped dinner?” 

Wolfram turned back to the documents. He nodded, then quickly swept the loose sheets into his hands and put them on the floor, laying the apple on top of them. “I think I lost the track of time.”

“What are those?” Yuuri asked, pointing at the papers.

Shifting, Wolfram pulled his legs under him and sat up. “Yuuri, I know that you wanted to know nothing about it, but the ceremony for the initiation of an Entrusted Lady for the von Bielefeld bloodline is scheduled for this Saturday. It will happen at the main temple of the Goddess of Fertility. It would probably be best if you attended the ceremony or rumors will start flying about. You won’t need to do anything; just show up at the beginning and then you can leave. Is it too much to ask?”

Frowning, Yuuri leaned against the backrest. “So you finally chose one?”

“Yes. We have already signed the contract. The initiation in the temple is only for the public eye; it’s a tradition.”

Yuuri thought for a moment. “If you’re so worried, then I suppose my not showing up would mean that I don't approve?”

“Exactly.”

“Is it like giving a blessing?”

Wolfram groaned inwardly at the hostility that he could clearly hear in his husband’s voice. “Not really. Just you indicating that it’s alright with you.”

Wolfram could see that Yuuri burned to share his thoughts about it all being “alright” with him, but in the end Yuuri decided to stop letting his thoughts and emotions chase each other in circles and just nodded.

“Alright, I’ll attend the ceremony,” he said. He reclined his head on the backrest. “So this is finally happening, huh?” he muttered.

Wolfram got up then squatted down to gather the documents and the apple from the floor. “Yes, it is,” he nodded, aligning them.

“What is she like?”

“Yuuri, stop it,” Wolfram said in a stern voice. In silence, he carried the documents and apple to the table and tossed them next to the bowl filled with fruit, placing the apple on the top of the arrangement. “I warned her about getting in your face, so she will stay away.”

“Thanks for making me feel like a jealous housewife.”

“Well... you are acting like one right now.”

Yuuri glared at Wolfram’s back but said nothing.

Wolfram shrugged. “I wouldn’t like you getting an Entrusted Lady either,” he admitted. He turned around to look at Yuuri. “I’m too possessive for that, and it doesn’t have anything to do with our different backgrounds. Even though...” Wolfram looked down at the floor for a long second, before continuing, “... I won’t have a say in it now.”

Surprised, Yuuri looked at his husband. They had not discussed this, but apparently Wolfram had known his vague thoughts anyway. Yuuri sighed, “Ah, let’s drop the topic for today. I don’t think there’s anything new to discuss.”

Wolfram nodded, agreeing. He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to his husband. “But there’s another thing I wanted to ask you. There’s a tradition after the initiation for the closest family members to gather somewhere to greet…” Wolfram faltered.

“…The couple,” Yuuri finished for him, thinking that he needed a drink or two and right now.

“It’s not called a couple,” Wolfram protested. “Sometimes it’s a group of three or four people. Besides, it’s more about the relatives biding their farewells to the woman and wishing her all the best.”

Yuuri ignored that. “So you’re asking me if you can use the Castle for that?”

“Yes,” Wolfram nodded. “If you’re against it, I can talk to the Buantas and arrange it at their home. Or I can talk to my father and use his castle.”

“That would be an awfully long journey.” Yuuri sighed. He also knew that Wolfram did not like interacting with his father. “Wolfram, this is your home just as much as it is mine. I can’t possibly tell you to leave.”

“I understand that, Yuuri. But that night, after the greeting, I’ll go to bed with her instead of with you. You have to decide if you can stand knowing…” Wolfram trailed off, knowing that his husband understood.

His face frowning, Yuuri closed his eyes. “Why must you torture me, Wolfram?” His husband stayed silent, and Yuuri opened his eyes to see Wolfram intently watching his face. Yuuri reached his hand to his wrist, to the wedding bracelet. He trailed his fingers over the shiny piece of gold. Suddenly, the king tugged on the wrist, making the startled blond fall forward into his arms. “Why the hell do I have to put up with this?!” Yuuri hissed, crushing Wolfram to him. “Why?!” he groaned.

Wolfram returned the desperate embrace, clinging to his husband, something inside him snapping at the sound of Yuuri’s desperate voice. “I love you so much, Yuuri! So much!” he whispered fervently, kissing his husband’s face, neck and shoulders. “So much!” he hiccupped.

Yuuri listened to the soft hiccups that had started. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He was not the only one feeling the pressure. “Shh... It’s okay, I’m sorry.” He took Wolfram’s face between his hands to calm him down. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry; it’s not your fault.”

Wolfram watched his husband with his big emeralds then hiccupped loudly. 

“We’ll get through this, Wolfram,” Yuuri said, his voice firm, trying to convince Wolfram as much as himself. 

XXXXX

There was a crowd gathered in front of the Goddess of Fertility Temple. The noble and relatives were already inside, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Wolfram and Yuuri were waiting outside with the crowd, but they, with a few bodyguards, were at the top of the stairs leading into the temple. The soldiers in the courtyard were maintaining order, making sure nobody climbed onto the stairs and that there was a passage left in the middle of the crowd for the vehicles. 

The tradition required Wolfram to lead his future Entrusted Lady into the temple. Yuuri had decided that his presence at his husband’s side would be enough to assure people. He did not plan on staying for the ceremony. He knew that even if his leaving would cause talk, Wolfram would understand.

The hair color of the child is already decided, Yuuri thought after a lavish carriage – followed by a suite of another ten – stopped at the temple, and Heseren Buanta climbed out. Both Wolfram and Heseren were blond. It was the first time he was seeing her.

Wolfram left Yuuri’s side, moving down the stairs, to meet her. Yuuri could hear distant mumblings and whispers from the crowd downstairs, enthusiastically sharing opinions about the von Bielfelds’ Entrusted Lady. She was dressed in an ornate green dress whose edges were embroidered with gold and which really complimented her figure. Her blonde wavy hair was gathered at the back of the head into a net studded with pearls. She was going to be a hot gossip topic for lots of women for many years to come. 

Wolfram was wearing his dress uniform and had a blue shoulder cape with golden trim representing his House. Today, on his chest he also had a silver pendant with von the Bielefeld emblem. During Yuuri and his wedding he had presented Yuuri with a similar one, but it had been bigger and made of pure gold.

Yuuri watched Wolfram guiding Heseren up the stairs laid out with carpets. Her parents and some of the relatives were following them. Giving her a closer look, Yuuri could see that she was very nervous, the plastered on smile troubled. She wasn’t a beauty, but today she looked stunning in her splendor. Yuuri caught himself trying to guess what might have induced Wolfram to choose her.

When Wolfram and Heseren reached the place where he was standing, the woman gave Yuuri a concerned look. Instead of giving her a nod or an assuring smile, Yuuri turned away and proceeded into the temple. Just before the guards opened the door to the temple, he thought that his behavior was uncalled for, but he wanted no connection with this woman.

They entered the temple and continued towards the front where the High Priestess stood. At each side of the long center carpeted aisle were row upon row of benches. The front rows were almost all filled, and with Heseren's parents and her relatives hurrying to take the remaining few empty seats, there were about a hundred and fifty people present.

After walking almost the length of the Hall, Yuuri turned to take a seat at his parents’ side who, with the household from Blood Pledge Castle, sat in the front rows. He had not intended to invite his parents to the ceremony, but Murata had warned him that his mother might feel hurt. Yuuri was regretting having listened to Murata because now his mother, sitting next to the grinning Cecilie, was wiping her teary eyes with a handkerchief. She was obviously misunderstanding the ceremony. His father, though, looked anxious. Gwendal and Conrad, from the other side of his parents, were giving him intense looks. Conrad offered him a reassuring smile. Gwendal’s gaze, though, told Yuuri that he had better endure the ceremony as a man or the consequences would be grave.

Neither Shori nor Asami were present. Yuuri had informed them about the ceremony and its date but did not invite them. Neither felt slighted by not being included. 

Yuuri took a seat next to his father. Wolfram and Heseren climbed the couple of low stairs and stopped in front of the platform where the High Priestess stood. Yuuri had wondered why sometimes the Goddess of Fertility was called the God of Fertility and vice versa. Wolfram had explained to him that in ancient times these were two separate gods. The female form had very likely been assimilated from Human or some other culture. With time, the two entities and their characters had merged, becoming two representations of the same being. 

For a couple of minutes, the High Priestess spoke celebrating life and the importance of the role of the young woman in front of her.

The introductory part was over, and the priestess cast a glance at a young girl and boy who had been waiting at the wall, next to a small table covered with a tablecloth that was embroidered with varicolored flowers. At the priestess’ sign, the girl took a golden chalice off the table. She held out the chalice for the boy who took the pitcher off the table. Slowly, he filled the elaborately engraved chalice with water. The water was taken from the well in the dark vault under the temple. It was believed that the water from that well held magical powers to improve potency, helped with conception and healed diseases. 

The boy lowered the pitcher back to the table then took a sash from it. On one end it had the ancient symbol of the God (a ripe spike of rye), on the opposite end it had an embroidered symbol of the Goddess (a catlike form). Both, he and the girl climbed the small stairs to the platform. While the girl was holding the chalice, the priestess took the sash from the boy and dipped the middle of it into the chalice.

“May your loins be fruitful,” the priestess said, brushing the wet sash over Wolfram’s forehead.

“May you bear healthy children,” she said, brushing the same part of the sash over Heseren’s forehead.

The High Priestess gave the sash back to the boy. She took the chalice from the girl and turned back to Wolfram and Heseren. Wolfram took off the silver pendant that he was wearing. 

“Lady Buanta, with this, I, Wolfram von Bielefeld, entrust unto you the future of the von Bielefeld blood.”

Heseren lowered her head while Wolfram was putting the pendant on her neck. “Thank You for Your trust, Your Highness,” she said. “I’ll do my best to answer Your Highness’ hopes.”

The High Priestess turned to the people sitting on the benches. “With this, the initiation is complete. You are the witnesses.”

A loud burst of applause filled the Temple and Wolfram held out his hand to help Heseren step down the stairs. Once they were off the stairs, Heseren’s relatives hurried to congratulate her. The people in the temple hushed when the king stood up. He came closer to the two. Without much interest, his eyes slid over the pendant dangling on Heseren’s chest then he nodded to Wolfram and turned to go.

Wolfram followed Yuuri who was moving towards the exit. All what was left to Heseren was to go after them. In single file, Heseren following Wolfram, Wolfram following Yuuri, they left the temple, walked down the red-carpeted stairs and climbed into the waiting carriage. Once the door closed, it drove off, followed by eight bodyguards on their horses.

Perplexed, Heseren sat opposite the royal couple. The prince and the king were discussing the arrangements for the guests. The king was completely ignoring her, and had not even acknowledged her presence by any word or action from the very start. His character did not scream hostility, particularly towards her, but he was obviously discontent with her even existing. She started to understand what the prince had been talking about earlier: the man was overly possessive, and only saw her as interference in his marriage. She suddenly felt frightened as the king could easily make her life miserable as soon as she brushed him the wrong way. Given the current situation it could easily be anything she did.

The prince had taken a position which clearly showed his priorities. The prince was well-known for his very fiery character and fights with his husband, and she presumed that their relationship was very rocky and complicated. But he had been allowed to have an Entrusted Lady within the marriage only with few conditions. It was obvious that Wolfram was bound by whatever he had promised his husband and to expect the prince to do something which would go against the king’s wishes would be naive. That left her at the mercy of the king.

The prince appeared to be different from what she had imagined. She had seen him a few times at various occasions in Blood Pledge Castle. As a man, she found him very attractive, even though her mother had said a few times that it was improper for a man to be this handsome. From rumors and a few glances, Heseren had thought him a very impulsive, but at the same time a scheming man who could be cruel at times and who could never get along with his own husband. In fact, she did not even want to meet him at first. That half an hour of conversation that she had with the prince made her change her opinion. The prince appeared to be the opposite of what she had imagined. Despite his two missing teeth, which she found a rather unpleasant sight, he was polite, businesslike and at the same time considerate of her position. This was much more than she had sensed from the other men that she had met before him. Further interaction proved him an intelligent and understanding person, with a good sense of humor, concerned about both of their futures and the future of their child or children. The terms of the contract pleased her greatly and she was ready to try her best for the possibility of her future independence.

On the other hand, she had to change her preconception about the king. Wolfram understood her anxieties and, as a more experienced man and host, felt a responsibility that she would feel comfortable in her new social environment. It seemed that the king’s attitude was making the prince feel somewhat uncomfortable. Heseren was not sure if the king was doing this intentionally, but she noticed the prince giving her a few quick reassuring glances.

They reached the Castle and climbed out of the carriage. Heseren was the last to exit, Wolfram offering her his hand for support. Gratefully, she took it and soon – with her bloated dress – was on firm ground. She felt the king’s scrutinizing look on her, but after raising her head, saw him already walking away. In the distance, she could hear other carriages climbing up the hill. Soon they appeared near the gate.

Wolfram led Heseren into the prepared hall where she was going to be congratulated and then would part with her family members and where she was going to meet and get acquainted with the household of Blood Pledge Castle. The most of her things were still at her parents’ house. She had not taken any servants, but Wolfram had promised to take care of that.

Once in the hall, Heseren felt surrounded by her relatives. Most of them she was seeing for the first time in her life, her father’s cries for help to save the family from bankruptcy finding only strangers. Now, many of them were flocking around her like about a hen lying golden eggs. She let herself be swept along by the cheap flattery and subservience. Heseren knew that very likely she was seeing them for the last time in her life; Wolfram did not strike her as a man who liked to foolishly spend his money. Even now he was answering the greetings of her family with curt nods. She remembered him saying that he was not interested in creating ties with her family. And if she ever got the estate that she had been promised, she was going to make sure her relatives never knew where she lived.

After the cloud of her relatives cleared off, she found herself in Cecilie von Spitzberg’s hug. Beside her there was another woman with brown hair, dressed very weird and who was talking non-stop in an unfamiliar language and then presented Heseren with a box of something while repeating Wolfram’s and Yuuri’s names. Heseren had seen Cecilie a few times and she thought the former queen a big airhead. On the other hand, she had heard stories where the queen had fought in duels with the strongest men in Shin Makoku and won. Seeing the former queen, Heseren always thought that those men had just been blinded by Cecilie’s beauty. That she could not deny. Heseren could see Lord von Bielefeld in the hall and it was obvious that Wolfram got his looks from his mother.

After the rest of the Blood Pledge Castle household greeted her, servants started streaming in, carrying various foods and dishes. Everybody started looking for a place to sit down. A little lost, Heseren looked around, wondering where to sit and where to put the box and that huge plush thing that had been given to her by Gwendal von Voltaire. She felt a tug on her dress.

“Here, sit here,” Wolfram indicated the empty seat next to him. 

He took the box and then the plushy thing from Heseren then called over one of the servants, instructing him to take them to her room. She noticed him giving his brother a look, which Gwendal von Voltaire answered with a raised eyebrow. Another look went to Gunter von Christ who, having missed the opportunity earlier, was trying to present Heseren with something pink and lacy over the table. Whatever it had been, it was intercepted halfway by Wolfram, set on fire, then its ashes thrown under the table. A little confused, Heseren thought that it must be some private joke. Just like that unrecognizable plushy thing or that box whose contents suspiciously smelled of an apple pie.

Soon the conversations started at the tables and people started melding into groups of two, three or more people. From the corner of her eye, Heseren noticed the king leave the hall and breathed a sigh of relief. Wolfram was arguing about something with Gunter von Christ. Heseren’s moment of peace was intruded upon by the same brunette and the former queen, who now undertook the role of a translator. Heseren found herself taken aback after realizing that this rather insensible woman was the mother of the king. Heseren had been assured that, indeed, it was an apple pie which was enjoyed very much by both the king and the prince, who this Human woman adored with all her heart.

As the rest of the Blood Pledge Castle household seemed to accept her warmly, her nervousness faded a bit, letting her actually observe and take part in a few conversations. But the darker it got behind the windows, the more apprehensive Heseren became. Some of her relatives started leaving, others asked to be led to the rooms that had been readied for them in advance. At about twelve o’clock, Heseren bid farewell to her parents and the celebration was over. 

Wolfram led her to the chambers which now would be hers for at least the next six or seven years. She had no arguments with the way the rooms were decorated. Everything was done according to the latest fashion and spoke of luxury. There were two rooms: one living-room and a bedroom behind it. She also saw the strange plushy thing and the box with the apple pie on the table in the living-room.

She looked around then both she and Wolfram sat down in the bedroom at the small table.

When Wolfram had thought about this moment before, he thought that he should be casual about it. It was just business, nothing else. Now, when he and Heseren were sitting at the table with the enormous bed looming in the back of the bedroom… It wasn’t as planned. From business she had turned into a breathing and living woman. She was also nervous, her eyes flitting from the candles on the table, to him, and then to the bed while her fingers were nervously tugging at the ribbons of her dress. She was biting her lower lip. The tension was over the top. Wolfram had never felt so constrained before. He felt that, as a man, it was his responsibility to break down that awkwardness between them, but the mindless things that were leaving his mouth were only making it only worse. For some reason the only things he could think about were; that he would not be able to do it; how he had gone to the lake to discharge Yuuri’s powers within him so he didn’t harm Heseren; and how was he going to face Yuuri tomorrow. In the end, he felt he was babbling nonsense and just closed his mouth. Now the two of them were sitting in a ringing silence.

Heseren was also trying her best to dissolve the sudden tension but Wolfram was just staring at her with big eyes. She could see that the man was close to getting up and running away out of the room. She was close to asking him do exactly that and leave her alone. It had occurred to her, and not once, that this might happen, but never did she think that it would be so awful. She knew in advance that she was going to be really nervous but had expected that Wolfram would take matters into his own hands. But it appeared that the prince was even more uncomfortable than she was.

Heseren started as Wolfram’s chair suddenly wobbled.

“I think I’ll just walk around for a bit,” Wolfram muttered after standing up. Not waiting for an answer, he quickly crossed the room and was gone.

Heseren stared at the closed door and felt like laughing. Although a moment later, she was closer to crying than laughing. It took her a few minutes to calm down and she wondered if she should just go to sleep.

XXXXX

After leaving the hall and climbing upstairs to the royal chambers, Yuuri could still hear some of the ruckus from the gathering below. He knew his early disappearance would cause some talk, but he congratulated himself on managing to last much longer than planned. Despite knowing that it was only natural for Wolfram to act with care around Heseren, he still did not like it when his husband was that attentive to someone else.

Yuuri removed his black jacket and tossed it onto the bed. After pulling his boots off, he unbuttoned his shirt halfway and sat down onto the bed. He could hear the distinct sounds of Cecilie’s laughter drowning out almost all of the other noises, but that still unnerved him. He was regretting having allowed the celebration in Blood Pledge Castle. 

An hour later, all the sounds ceased, and it seemed that everyone had drifted away to their rooms. Yuuri also thought about going to sleep. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into the cold bed. Just as he had presumed, his thoughts spiraled around in his head without end. He tried to reason with himself, but it was all in vain.

Not managing to fall asleep, he got up, poured himself a glassful of cognac and, with the glass in his hand, started pacing the room. From time to time he would cast a glance or two at the door. He still had hopes that Wolfram would return to their bed tonight. Stopping a few times to refill his glass, he continued measuring the room.

By the time the grandfather’s clock struck one, Yuuri had begun to realize how crimes of passion were committed. He had threatened Wolfram once, but now he understood he was getting close to acting. Never would he have thought that after fifteen years of marriage he would wish to kill anyone who as much as touched Wolfram.

Yuuri lowered the half-full glass onto the table then cast his hazy eyes at the empty bottle. He decided that the course his thoughts were taking was dangerous. It was enough drinking. Klutzily, he pushed the glass further away from him, then walked over to the bed and flopped onto his back on it. Hoping to finally get some sleep, he lay fruitlessly like this for a couple of hours until disturbed dreams claimed him.

XXXXX

A loud knock on the door in the other room made Murata frown in his dream. As far as his sleepy mind knew, it was way past midnight. He grunted as one of the wives elbowed him in the side indicating that he had better get up and answer the door. What the hell were the guards doing letting him be disturbed at this hour?! Cursing softly under his breath, Murata got out of the bed grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, settling them on his nose, lit a candle, found his robe and struggled into it, then walked through the living-room to the door.

“Who is it?” Murata bellowed.

“It’s His Highn…!”

“Shut up!”

Murata blinked at the door. “Wolfram, is it you? What the hell are you…?”

“Let me in, will you?!”

Murata sighed. “Fine, fine.” He unlocked the door and opened it to find two concerned guards and an even more concerned prince standing in the dark corridor. “What the hell happened to you?” Murata asked, letting the blond pass. “You look as if you...” He closed and locked the door again. He then went to close the door leading to the bedroom where his wives and the youngest children were sleeping peacefully. 

“Well?” Murata asked after walking over to the table, putting the candlestick on it and taking the place opposite the one that the blond took. 

The blond was silent. As Wolfram rarely interacted with him and his visits were even rarer, Murata felt that the prince visiting him at this moment indicated that for once Wolfram had hit a wall. A lost Wolfram was not very pleasant thought.

“Right now you should be enjoying a splendid night with Heseren, right?” Murata scratched his head. He groaned as he was met with silence again. “For god’s sake, Wolfram. It’s…” he cast a look at the clock hanging on the wall, “Three in the morning?!” he started then sighed. “So things aren’t going as planed, are they?” Murata tried to get the prince to start talking, so that they dealt with this and he could go back to bed.

“They are much, much worse,” Wolfram muttered. “I can’t even touch her.”

“Is she that fierce?”

Wolfram blinked. “Eh? She’s really nervous, but I don’t think she would mind it. But it’s…”

Murata groaned again. “I always knew you were totally gay!”

“What?”

“You only like men, don’t you?”

Wolfram blinked at him. “Probably. But what...?”

Murata waved it off. “Never mind. So you ran away. You left the poor girl alone and ran away. Do you even have an ounce of brains?” Murata asked in a serious voice while his index finger was poking Wolfram on his forehead. “Can you imagine what she is thinking now? How she feels now? She’s probably in tears thinking about her miserable fate where…”

“Alright, I get it,” Wolfram smacked the finger off his forehead. The Great Sage was getting too familiar with him but at this moment Wolfram did not care. “And it doesn’t make me any more excited.”

“So you can’t get it up?”

Wolfram blinked at him then reddened. That was too blunt. But true. “Yeah. I don’t think I…”

“Well, did you caress her, feel her skin, lips, hair? Did you feel her breasts and…?”

Wolfram laughed nervously. “Haaahh…”

“So you didn’t?” Murata rolled his eyes. “Then how in the hell do you expect to get it up?”

Wolfram flushed red again. “I thought you might help me out…?” he looked at Murata hopefully.

“I’m sorry, but my wives would skin me alive if I brought home another one. Besides, I’ve plenty of kids already.”

Wolfram glared at him. “I’m being serious!”

Murata rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he sighed then. “I might just have what you need.” He left his chair and walked over to the cupboard where he retrieved a few bottles of liquor.

Wolfram stared at Murata while he was bringing the bottles and two glasses over to the table. “You can’t be serious…?” he drawled.

“Oh, but I am,” Murata nodded. He put the glasses onto the table then the bottles followed suit. “Do you know any other way?”

“Well, no... but this… Besides, I’m forbidden to drink.”

“Do you think that right now Yuuri gives a damn about your drinking?” Murata asked, already having opened one of the bottles. He started filling the glasses. “Certainly not,” he answered for Wolfram, clinking glasses and taking a sip.

A little reluctantly, Wolfram took his then just shrugged and emptied in a few big gulps. Murata filled his glass again, and Wolfram began to hope that after a few more he would simply pass out under the table. That did not happen, though. The two of them emptied the bottle then Murata stood up. He took the second bottle off the table and carried it back to the cupboard, put the bottle on a shelf and started opening it.

Already buzzed, Wolfram stared at his back, not really understanding why Murata took the bottle all the way across the room just to open it. Finally Murata was done. He leaned down to retrieve two clean glasses from the cupboard then brought them and the open bottle to Wolfram.

“Here,” Murata said. “Take this and go to her. I’m sure she’s not sleeping yet.”

Wolfram didn't move to take the glasses or the bottle. He wasn't sure if Murata was serious or it was just a joke. “I don’t want to,” Wolfram muttered.

Murata barely kept himself from laughing. “I don’t think she expects anything from you tonight anymore. But it would just be nice if you went and apologized for being an asshole. Just have a friendly drink with her to calm her down.” He lifted the bottle. “This is really good. She'll like it. I promise.”

Wolfram watched the bottle as Murata held it in the middle of the air, then sighed heavily. He nodded. “Alright. I think I owe her that at least.”

Once the door closed behind Wolfram’s back, Murata locked it and, chuckling to himself, went back to bed with his sleeping wives.

XXXXX

Wolfram woke up with a sudden start. He nearly cried out as, after lifting his head, a pang of horrible pain shot between his eyes as if someone had just slammed a morning star into his forehead. After a few nauseated and dysfunctional seconds he finally managed to open his eyes. He was in bed with Heseren who was still sleeping. 

A wave of nausea shook Wolfram and he rolled off the bed and ran into the bathroom. While kneeling, his body being shaken with spasms, his stomach turning inside out, he realized that he was naked. He had no memories of getting into the bed. He had no memories of even returning to the room. 

Panting, Wolfram finally felt his stomach settling. A few waves were still going up and down his throat and he leaned against the cupboard to wait them out. After dizzily looking around, he spotted a towel hanging on a hook on the wall and took it to wrap around his hips. A couple of minutes later it seemed that it was safe to leave. He went to the door, but as soon as he reached for the door handle, the door nearly smashed into him. He managed to jump away at the last second.

“Move! Move aside!” Heseren croaked, shoving Wolfram out of her way.

Once inside, she bent over the same pail and started getting rid of her stomach contents. Not sure what to do, Wolfram just stood and stared at the naked woman vomiting. Even if he had seen many things in his life, the sight simply froze him.

“What in the Kingdom,” she heaved, “was in that bottle?!”

“What bottle?” Wolfram asked, finally getting over his stupor and moving forward to grab a handful of Heseren’s loose hair to keep it out of the way.

Heseren groaned again as another spasm shook her. “The one-,” she gasped out, “the one you brought with you when you showed up at nearly four o’clock in the morning.”

Some vague pictures floated in Wolfram’s head but they made no sense. “Have we been drinking?”

“Ohhhh,” Heseren half laughed, half moaned in misery, “I suppose emptying three bottles could be called that.”

“Three bottles?! I thought you said one?”

A few seconds passed until Heseren was able to answer. “At first it was one. The one with a strange taste. Then… I don’t really remember much. But I saw three bottles rolling around on the floor near the bed.”

Wolfram stared at the blond hair in his hand. Heseren remembered more than he did. For some reason it was all blank for him. Did they do it?

“Did we do it?”

“Do what?” Heseren groaned.

Wolfram glared at the back of the blonde head. “A baby.” ‘You damn woman’, he wanted to add but bit his tongue. This was the second time he found himself in this sort of situation with memories that made no sense and signs that something significant had happened to him and it suddenly angered him. Even as the anger engulfed him, he knew it had nothing to do with his Entrusted Lady.

Heseren nearly choked. For a moment she seemed frozen. She wiped her mouth with her hand and turned to look at Wolfram. Then she looked at herself. She was obviously trying to feel any changes in her body. She was nearly in tears. 

Wolfram sighed. “I don’t remember anything and it’s not clear if we succeeded, but it’s obvious that we have been trying.”

TBC


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : There’s a club on Y!Gallery where you can find many characters from this trilogy: http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/club/7069/

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 12

Heseren felt better, and Wolfram left the bathroom. As soon as he entered the bedroom, the reek of alcohol and sex assaulted his senses. There was no doubt about what they had been doing. He hurried to the windows and opened them to let some fresh air into the room. After he had brushed the curtains back, it appeared that it was nearly midday, the sun glowing brightly.

Wolfram turned back and saw that Heseren was already dressed in a light peignoir. Automatically tying its bands, she was staring at the bottles scattered around.

“Kick them under the bed,” Wolfram said. “I’ll call in the servants to ready a bath.”

With the tips of her toes, the Entrusted Lady rolled the bottles under the bed while Wolfram dressed. He went to call the servants, and, about ten minutes later, they started streaming in with buckets filled with hot water. They filled the tub in the bathroom, and Heseren took her bath. Waiting for her to finish, Wolfram, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, was sitting at the table and staring out of the window while listening to the splashing water sounds coming from the bathroom. 

When Heseren was done, Wolfram gathered the bottles, wrapped them in a towel and, with Heseren, left for the kitchen. Walking through a corridor empty of guards, he left the bottles with the towel against the wall. 

The cooks quickly prepared a late breakfast, and they ate. Heseren barely had an appetite, meanwhile Wolfram ate heartily and fried chicken wings and creamy rolls were disappearing in his mouth. Heseren was a little surprised that the man who was half-dead about an hour ago was now sweeping everything off the table. His hangover was gone and he seemed to be in a quite good mood, which was the opposite of when he woke up. It was silent at the table and she thought about asking him what had caused the change, but then decided she didn’t really care about the prince’s moods.

After the meal, Heseren went back to her chambers, and Wolfram headed off to the Royal Bath where he carefully scrubbed away any trace of last night, even washing his hair, before changing into a clean uniform and going to his study. A pile of documents and a bunch of letters brought in this morning were on his desk. His thoughts were not here, but he forced himself to concentrate and first read the letters and wrote answers to a few of them, then undertook the task of analyzing the documents. He put his signature on most of them, sorted out the ones that he wanted to discuss with Yuuri or Gunter, then put aside the ones that he was going to return for corrections or which were not acceptable at all. 

It was Sunday and Wolfram knew that usually Yuuri finished his work at about three o’clock. Then he would go to have dinner, afterward the two of them would walk in the garden, go for a ride or just retire to their chambers and spend a peaceful evening there talking, reading or just lounging about. After coming to Shin Makoku for the first time, Yuuri had insisted that Sunday would be a holiday for him. It was met with some surprise, but his wish was fulfilled. But further into his reign, he seemed to realize that a king’s work was never done.

Wolfram leaned back in the chair and wondered what he should do – it was nearly three o’clock. He was hesitant about going to the dining-room and meeting Yuuri. He didn’t feel ready. On the other hand, he was a little worried that Yuuri, running out of patience, might come to see him. 

Uneasy, Wolfram’s eyes turned towards the door where he suddenly heard someone’s fast steps approaching. A strong knock on the door followed and it opened without him being fast enough to answer. Wolfram exhaled the breath he had been holding. He nodded.

“Kyota.”

“Hey,” the blue-haired man answered, crossing the study in a couple of big steps. He flopped into the chair opposite Wolfram’s desk. “I went to your Entrusted Lady’s chambers, but she said you had left her hours ago. I’m a little worried that last night might have scrambled your brains,” he spilled in one go while pointing at his own head with his index finger. “To exchange a woman like that for a pile of this…” he motioned with his hand at Wolfram’s desk buried under papers.

Wolfram threw him a sharp look. “Kyota.” He knew it was Kyota’s way of showing his concern about him, but he did not want to hear jokes about the situation.

His friend fell silent. “Are you alright, Wolfram?” he asked after a moment. 

“Hmm…” Wolfram pursed his lips. “Actually, I’m much better than you’d think. I don’t remember a thing, but I hope she does get pregnant.”

Confused, Kyota looked at him. “You don’t remember?” he asked, perplexed.

“Not a thing,” Wolfram confirmed. “I’m grateful to the Great Sage. I don’t know what the hell was in that bottle that he gave me, but when I woke up it was all over. I was somewhat angry at first but then… I think it was exactly what I had in mind when I went to him asking for help.”

“Ah,” Kyota sighed. “Figures.”

Kyota was relieved. Maybe it would be alright now. The matter was very delicate between Wolfram and Yuuri. Yesterday Kyota had been present at the initiation and the gathering in the Castle but he did not want to make things worse. To blatantly stay close to Wolfram and greet the Entrusted Lady would have showed his support of Wolfram and his right to have her, leaving Yuuri on the other side, which would actually make an even bigger gap in their marriage. Kyota had decided that he had to act reasonably and left the gathering early.

Kyota knew Wolfram was not interested in women at all and he had been quite worried at how it would turn out. Wolfram was not the first or the last needing to use an Entrusted Lady’s services, but there was Yuuri’s jealousy and anger to consider. All of which put a huge strain on Wolfram who would not even wanted an Entrusted Lady if not for the demands of his House. Kyota was worried that unable to cope with the pressure, Wolfram might realize it in hating the woman. Yuuri’s distaste towards her was obvious. With these two men united negatively toward her, her life could easily turn into a complete nightmare. For now though, Wolfram seemed to be acting reasonably which would prevent Yuuri’s interference.

“I’ve seen Yuuri roaming around. He didn’t look that good,” Kyota said. “You should go to him.”

Wolfram leaned his head on the backrest. He let out a long sigh. “I want to, but I have no idea what to say. Will I even be able to look him in the eyes?”

Kyota gave him a serious look. “I’m sure he just wants to see you.” The smile he offered was somewhat bitter. “All he wants is for you to love him and stay by his side. You know this better than anyone else. He would probably forgive you anything. Knowing his background…I didn’t think he would allow you to have the woman. He’s let you walk all over his ego.” 

Wolfram stared at the ceiling. The lecture was getting old. But Kyota was right about Yuuri’s feelings. “I was surprised,” Wolfram admitted. “During the last few years of our marriage he has become very possessive.”

“Now he will be even more so. You have tested and pushed the limits and your relationship still held. Now he will expect…”

With a wave of his hand, Wolfram made him fall silent. “He has always been my first priority anyway. He didn’t need to make it one of the conditions.”

“Things change, Wolfram. Love fades away. Now…even if you…he has bound you to him.”

Wolfram spat in distaste. “You think too poorly of him.”

Kyota chuckled. “No, I like to think I know your husband pretty well. The thing is...feelings, rationality and ego rarely walk together. I know that from my own experience,” he laughed softly. “You should know it too – you chased him for nearly two years after all. And you did get what you wanted. Now, he will try to keep you at all costs.”

Wolfram sighed. He was simply tired of it all. “Why did you come here, Kyota?” he muttered.

Shrugging, Kyota chuckled. “I think that sometimes you think too highly of your husband. Right now you’re ashamed, feel guilty and are afraid to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t care about your fears. Right now he just wants you to come back to him and show him that you still belong to him. This is what “him being your first priority” means. Forget about yourself, Wolfram. It’s all about him now. Don’t make him come here looking for you.” 

Wolfram looked at him. Kyota was right, of course. “It seems that with the years you’re becoming more and more sensible,” he muttered.

“Oh, don’t make me sound so old,” Kyota laughed.

Wolfram shifted in the chair to get more comfortable. “How is Leahir?” he asked, indicating that the conversation about him and Yuuri was over.

“Leahir?” Kyota repeated, shrugging. “He’s fine. He was glad for the opportunity yesterday to show off his new dress.” He winked at Wolfram. “He looked really good in all those frills.”

Wolfram scratched his brow. He still could not figure out the appeal in that, so he had no idea of what to say. But his tongue still slipped: “I would have a heart attack if I saw Yuuri wearing something like that.”

Kyota stared at his friend silently while trying to imagine that then burst out laughing. “Yeah, so would I.”

Grinning, the two of them gazed at each other chuckling. Then Wolfram lowered his eyes to the desk and pushed himself away from it.

“I think I’ll follow your advice and go have dinner. Join us.”

Kyota nodded, accepting the invitation. He stood up and followed Wolfram out of the study.

When they came to the dining-room, Leahir (this time wearing trousers), Yuuri and the rest of the household were already sitting at the table, eating. Wolfram and Kyota greeted them and, with Yuuri’s gaze locked on him, Wolfram came to take his place at his right side. 

During the meal, Yuuri was nearly staring at him, his eyes dark and intense as if the king were trying to see if there were any changes in him. Thinking he was doing it unnoticeably, Yuuri even sniffed him. Yuuri hardly touched his food.

Cecilie was almost the only one talking at the table. She informed everyone that Heseren’s parents were currently saying their farewells to their daughter and were going to leave the castle in a few minutes. Wolfram said that he had no interest in seeing them out. He thought that they were fortunate enough that he had agreed to pay off their debts.

Soon Yuuri, Wolfram, Kyota and Leahir were left alone at the table. Wolfram and Kyota were finishing eating, the other two were waiting for them. Kyota and Leahir were keeping up a light conversation. After the meal they were planning on going to the lake that was near Blood Pledge Castle.

“Why don’t we join them, Yuuri?” Wolfram asked. He was licking his fingers to clean the frosting that was left by the roll that he had just eaten. He looked at Yuuri to see what his husband thought about the suggestion. However, Yuuri seemed to be more interested in Wolfram’s lips and fingers. There was still that dark look in them, with something primal. Not taking his eyes off his husband, Wolfram’s tongue snuck out to circle around the top of one of the digits once again. Yuuri’s gaze followed. Experimenting, Wolfram slid it into his mouth to clean off the rest of already nonexistent frosting. Yuuri’s dark eyes seemed to be fascinated with the simple action.

So were Kyota and Leahir. 

Wolfram’s finger left his mouth with a loud pop. He blushed. Kyota cleared his throat. Leahir seemed to be immensely interested in what was going on in his tea mug. Yuuri was still staring at Wolfram’s mouth.

“Yuuri.”

No reaction.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri actually jerked, his eyes snapping to Wolfram’s questioningly. “Yes?”

“I asked if we couldn’t join Kyota and Leahir at the lake.”

Yuuri stared at him for a moment then gave a nod.

XXXXX

The small outing went well. Despite Wolfram being somewhat skeptical at first, the two of them managed to relax. The summer was already nearing its end, but the weather was still warm enough for swimming. They went for a swim with Kyota and Leahir then stretched out under a tree to dry off. The light conversation improved their moods. They left the lake when the sun started setting and were at the Castle when it was already dark, only candles in the windows and torches glimmering.

When Wolfram came in from the baths, Yuuri was already lying in the bed. After taking a few steps into the bedroom, he saw that Yuuri was not sleeping, just lying on his back and gazing at him, watching him approach. He would have been surprised to see Yuuri already asleep. The air seemed to be filled with tension.

Under that observant gaze, Wolfram approached the bed and slipped under the covers. With a wave of his hand, he extinguished the candles on the table. At first it was silent in the bedroom then Wolfram heard the bed creaking and Yuuri’s warm breath ghosted over his cheek. His eyes still not having adjusted to the darkness, Wolfram could not see anything. He felt Yuuri’s hands sliding over his chest, and fingers fumbling with the buttons on his pajama top. Yuuri’s lips sought out his. At first the kiss was gentle, but it soon became something precarious, making Wolfram feel as if he was being pulled into the deep darkness that he had seen in Yuuri’s eyes at the dinner table.

The kiss broke. Yuuri was still fumbling with the buttons on Wolfram’s shirt. Then Wolfram swore he physically felt something snap in Yuuri. Whether it was his patience or his frustration, anger or jealousy, Wolfram didn’t know, but he found himself pressed into the bedding. Forcing a kiss that was bruising his lips, Yuuri ripped the blond’s pajama top right off his body. Starting to become alarmed, Wolfram tried to answer the kiss, but it ended up with Yuuri pulling at his hair to expose his neck. Teeth scrapped across the pale skin alternating with Yuuri’s forceful mouth. That was going to leave bright-colored hickeys all over his neck for everyone to see tomorrow.

Yuuri’s lips attacked his chest. Wolfram felt teeth grazing across the right nipple, then they bit down, making the blond jerk underneath his husband. Wolfram wasn’t sure whether it was more painful or arousing and he let Yuuri do the same with his left nipple. The sharp stab of pain made him grab at Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri raised his head, and his face, nearly glowing in the darkness with intensity, made Wolfram even more uneasy. 

It seemed that Wolfram’s reaction returned some sense to Yuuri. The next kiss was gentler, less angry. But the longer the kiss continued, the tenderness was fading, the hunger, irritation and possessiveness, starting to seep through. Yuuri’s hands slid to his waistband then into the pants. Grabbing Wolfram’s half-hard member, Yuuri started giving him quick, demanding strokes. Having him at full attention, Yuuri began pulling the blond’s pants off. Once done, he peeled his own away.

Pressing Wolfram into the bedding, Yuuri slid in between his legs. He lifted Wolfram’s right leg, putting it onto his shoulder. After slicking his cock with his saliva, he plunged into Wolfram. Wolfram grimaced – Yuuri had never been so reckless before. 

The few first thrusts were alright, but then it started to feel too uncomfortable and Wolfram squirmed. There was too much friction with only saliva for lubrication. He told Yuuri that he needed to get the lubricant from the drawer in the nightstand. Yuuri didn’t seem to be listening to him, though. Wolfram frowned in pain. Gasping at the forceful thrusts, the blond lifted himself to push at Yuuri’s shoulders. That made Yuuri’s grip on Wolfram’s thigh tighten, his body lean forward and press Wolfram deeper into the bedding.

“You’re mine, Wolfram! Don’t you forget that!” Yuuri wheezed out in a weird guttural voice.

If he hadn’t been in pain, Wolfram would have probably not resisted, and just felt worried or surprised or maybe just accepted it as an unavoidable thing, but now, with his left leg he kicked at Yuuri’s chest with enough force to shove his husband off him. Yuuri slid off the bed and thumped onto the carpet on his backside.

“For fuck’s sake, Yuuri, that hurts!” Wolfram snapped at Yuuri who just sat on the carpet, sprawled, hard, staring at him with a facial expression befitting a stunned child who was not able to believe what just had happened.

Wolfram was neither able to see the dazed expression nor the following fear on his husband’s face. He frowned when Yuuri abruptly jumped to his feet and frantically looked around, then grabbed the dressing-gown from the chair and shot to the door forcing his arms into it as he moved.

“Where the hell are you going?” Wolfram asked in a loud voice. “Don’t you dare run away!”

“Wolfram, I…” Yuuri started in a voice that was nearly choked off in his throat. He was not looking at the blond’s shadowy figure and he turned away when the candles on the table flared to life. “I… I nearly...,” the strength left his legs and he ungracefully flopped back onto the carpet, “no, I raped you…”

From the bed, Wolfram stared at his husband’s figure on the carpet, surrounded by jumping shadows created by the candles. Wincing, he quickly slid off the bed, going to his husband and kneeling beside him. “Yuuri, you idiot,” he murmured softly, embracing his husband. “A bit of rough sex won’t kill me.” He flinched when Yuuri wrapped his arms around him and squeezed so hard that Wolfram thought he could hear his bones creak. He could understand Yuuri’s distress but knew that Yuuri would never intentionally hurt him this way. It was just stress, and he felt somewhat idiotic trying to convince his own husband that it would take a much greater effort to rape him.

“I’m sorry,” Wolfram said, stroking Yuuri’s back.

Something suffocating was stuck in Yuuri’s throat, refusing to be swallowed and wanting out. Why was Wolfram apologizing when he was the one bleeding?

“I’m sorry for making you hurt so much,” Wolfram said, quietly, but sincerely.

At Wolfram’s words, Yuuri suddenly felt that couldn’t hold it all in anymore. It was as if the plug was finally torn out of his throat, his eyes and nose filling with salty liquid. Wolfram was his everything. If not for Wolfram, he would probably have never left Earth to return to Shin Makoku for good. With Wolfram it was…it was just as if he had married into different house called Mearan. It was just because Wolfram was beside him that he could bear the thought of forever staying in a world that was not his. It was Wolfram’s world and because of Wolfram he chose to stay. And…

“Hey, c’mon, now,” Wolfram soothed him softly.

Yuuri sobbed. “I’m afraid you will leave me and…”

Chuckling silently, Wolfram pressed Yuuri’s head to his shoulder and started stroking his hair. Yuuri’s face was hot against his skin. “Leave you because of that woman?” He laughed again as to his ears it sounded absurd. He suddenly grabbed Yuuri’s face between his hands and lifted it. “Yuuri, I don’t like women. Their breasts scare the hell out of me. Their lack of a dick disturbs me. I can’t sleep with that woman without three bottles of liquor. If I tried it naturally, I’d probably have nightmares about red yawning gulfs for the rest of my life.”

Yuuri’s eyes, with transparent droplets hanging on eyelashes above them, stared at Wolfram. Wolfram could not tell if his husband felt relieved, revolted or soothed by what he said or just felt overwhelmed by everything. As if he were a doll with broken strings, Yuuri let himself be lifted and seated on the bed. 

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked, his voice shaking. He could see a thin strip of smeared red on Wolfram’s inner thigh. There was not much but… “I’m really sorry. I…”

Wolfram looked at himself. He reached into the drawer for a handkerchief. “I’m fine,” he said, wiping away the blood.

“I love you, Wolfram,” Yuuri said, his eyes nearly pleading. For what, Yuuri was not really sure. It was either for forgiveness or love, but when Wolfram’s lips gently touched his, he thought that maybe it was for that.

“I know,” Wolfram said after breaking the kiss. He tossed the handkerchief onto the floor. “You know that I love you, too.”

That seemed to work on calming his husband, Yuuri relaxing a bit and slumping against him. Wolfram decided that they really needed to go to sleep. The day simply had been too stressful for both of them. They would just forget this outburst. Wolfram tugged at Yuuri’s dressing-gown. 

“C’mon, let’s go to sleep.”

Yuuri slipped off the robe, Wolfram tossing it onto the carpet. Naked, they got under the cover and, after a few light kisses, Wolfram pressed himself against his husband, pulling his arms around him. A few moments later, they fell asleep.

XXXXX 

Yuuri woke up late. From the light seeping through the curtains of the window, his eyes went to the blond head in front of him. Wondering why he had not been awakened earlier, he reached out to thread his fingers through the blond tendrils curling on the pale nape. He leaned over to kiss the bare shoulder protruding from under the cover. He felt ashamed of himself for yesterday’s outburst. He had hurt Wolfram. Then it had even come to pleading with Wolfram not to leave him. What had Wolfram thought about his desperate, grasping state of mind? More importantly, what had Wolfram thought about him doing that to him?

“Mmm…”

“Good morning,” Yuuri said, kissing the blond head. He heard Wolfram yawn, then his husband turned to face him.

“Morning.”

Rather tense, Yuuri watched the blond’s face. But he couldn’t see anything except for sleepiness and lazily blinking eyes. Wolfram had never been a morning person. He often confused dreams with reality when not fully awake. Yuuri was sure of that because Wolfram sometimes kicked or mumbled in his sleep. Though, Wolfram did like sex in the mornings. It helped him to wake up.

Tentatively, Yuuri slid his arm around his husband’s waist. The skin there was warm and smooth. Wolfram’s drowsily blinking eyes concentrated on him, then a lazy smile appeared on his face. He let himself be pulled close to Yuuri which let him feel Wolfram’s morning erection press against his stomach.

Yuuri leaned in to softly nibble on the blond’s collarbone. His hand started to caress Wolfram’s back. Wolfram hummed contently at the attention. He rolled to his back, his arms twining around Yuuri’s neck and pulling him on top of himself. Yuuri’s hands slid over Wolfram’s sides, caressing his ribs and waist. Not trusting his morning breath, he just gave his husband a soft peck on his lips. He grunted when Wolfram’s hands slipped into his hair to hold him and press their mouths together. His teeth scrapped across Yuuri’s lower lip and Yuuri opened his mouth to let him in. A deep kiss ensued, the prince nearly purring.

They kissed for a minute then Wolfram’s hands left Yuuri’s hair to slide over his shoulders and back. For a short moment they settled on the small of Yuuri’s back then slid lower to grasp the globes of his firm backside. Yuuri moaned softly into the blond’s mouth, his hips pushing forward into Wolfram’s stomach. Shifting a little so that their erections pressed together, Yuuri started to rock slowly. 

Their breathing began to get faster, their eyes closing while both of them savored the sparks of lust that flared up. Wolfram’s right hand left Yuuri’s ass. His fingers flicked over the crack, then pressed forward. Yuuri groaned loudly, his backside pushing against the fingers. He spread his legs to give Wolfram better access. 

Feeling that he was near, Yuuri pulled away. Panting, he stared down at Wolfram’s face to relish its expression. The blond’s face was flushed, his eyes half-closed with nebulous lust clouding them. 

“What?”

Yuuri shook his head, a smile mixing with desire on his face. “Nothing, I just like this look on you.” He laughed softly when Wolfram’s already flushed cheeks reddened even more.

“Get the lube, moron,” the blond muttered in an embarrassed voice.

“Why do you always have to call me names?” Yuuri chuckled, sliding closer to the edge of the bed and reaching out for the nightstand to open a drawer.

“It’s because you’re talking nonsense.”

“Hmm…” Yuuri hummed, retrieving a tube. Seeing that it was empty, he tossed it to the end of the room where a trashcan stood. It hit the can and bounced off. Yuuri turned away and delved into the drawer to retrieve another tube. He turned back to Wolfram who lay spread out on the huge bed. “Actually, the sight makes me want to say another bunch of things,” Yuuri said. He laughed when the blond rolled his eyes.

Yuuri crawled to Wolfram, the blond reaching out for him and pulling his husband down for another kiss. Their tongues clashed, Yuuri trying to overwhelm the blond who did not want to give in. They kissed for some time, then, to assure his win, Yuuri’s hand snuck in between their stomachs to wrap around the blond’s cock and gave it a few strokes. Panting, Wolfram turned his head aside. 

“Not fair,” he groaned.

“But effective,” Yuuri chuckled, lowering his head to issue another kiss. He let go of the blond.

They caressed and kissed, their hands teasingly sliding over each other’s bodies, trying to remember and manipulate all the sensitive spots. 

Yuuri pulled away. Fishing out the tube of lubricant from the other side of the bed, he squeezed some of it on his fingers and slipped his hand in between the blond’s thighs. His fingers slid inside, making Wolfram tense. Yuuri stroked a few times, scissored then crooked his fingers. Wolfram hummed, his eyelids fluttering shut. The pleasurable massage made his limbs relax, but the muscles in his lower stomach tensed at the building pleasure.

Yuuri finished the preparations and pulled his fingers out. He reached for the tube to squeeze out more lubricant and coated himself. He positioned himself between Wolfram’s legs.

Preparing for a rough and painful penetration, Wolfram tensed. But Yuuri slid in tenderly, making sure he was careful not to irritate yesterday’s hurt. As if in apology, wanting to erase last night forever and regain his husband’s trust, he started a slow and easy pace. Wolfram’s back and neck relaxed into the bedding and he closed his eyes, feeling how pleasure started building in his lower stomach. 

Yuuri was slowly rocking in and out of Wolfram, his breathing beating against the blond’s skin in feverish puffs. Wolfram lifted his legs and crossed his ankles high behind Yuuri’s back. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s neck then pulled his husband in for a long and wet kiss. It made Yuuri lose the rhythm, suddenly finding himself being overwhelmed by the devouring kiss.

After breaking apart, Yuuri resumed the leisurely rhythm, his hips moving slowly, either nearly pulling out of Wolfram or burying himself fully into him. As the lust rose, he concentrated on drawing their pleasure out, resisting the urge to start pounding and just reach the peak. Soft moans filled the room. Yuuri felt a droplet of sweat running down his forehead and then his nose. It didn’t have a chance to hang on its tip as Yuuri moved forward, the droplet splashing on Wolfram’s skin.

Yuuri found his concentration was slipping, his thrusts becoming faster despite his will. He reached between their stomachs to grasp the blond’s throbbing member, stroking it in tune with his thrusts. He felt Wolfram tightening around him. The prince’s breaths were getting shorter and faster, a few uncontrolled moans spilling past his lips. The blond’s body started to strain against him, wanting to increase the pace. His fingers dug into Yuuri’s skin.

“Mmm… Yuuri, c’mon. Faster,” Wolfram panted out, chewing on his lower lip then his tongue snuck out to wet his lips. “Fuck me faster.”

Yuuri closed his eyes as the room began to swim. His body and mind overwhelmed by the lustful urge from the blond. 

Wolfram came first, a short guttural sound being torn from his throat. The orgasm wave subsided, and his body relaxed into the bedding where he lay panting, with his head still swimming. Vaguely, he felt Yuuri come inside him.

Panting, Yuuri collapsed onto Wolfram, sandwiching him. Gasping for air, he pressed his forehead to Wolfram’s chest. Wolfram wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s head and shoulders firmly, the flood of Yuuri's powers filling him again, but no match for the afterglow of his orgasm.

“We’ll survive it,” he whispered.

“We sure the hell will,” Yuuri agreed.

XXXXX

A few weeks later it became clear that Heseren was not pregnant. After having examined Heseren, Gisela said that now would be the best time for them to try again. As soon as he heard that, without any hesitation, Wolfram went straight to the Great Sage. Murata, at the sight of him, immediately started ransacking the cupboard with the bottles. He was sure that there could only be one reason why the prince came to see him. Finally, he retrieved a small vial from the cupboard and held out it for Wolfram to take. 

“A drop per glass,” he said. “Don’t overdose. You remember what happened to you on Ekara, right? And don’t ask me where or how I got it. By the way,” he added, “Humans are immune to it.”

Shocked, Wolfram stared at Murata who was politely but insistently leading him towards the door. Wolfram still could not utter a word when the door closed in his face. Murata must have simply taken the latosa during one of his visits to Ekara. Nonetheless, it was a mystery how Murata knew what happened to Wolfram and how he knew how latosa worked.

“Thanks,” Wolfram muttered darkly to the door and walked away. He did not like Murata knowing what he knew. He also thought that Murata had been amusing himself that night; he could have just given him the potion instead of watching him drinking and making a fool of himself.

Wolfram thought about lying to Yuuri that his father was ill and he had to go to von Bielefeld lands to visit him and to help him take care of a few things. But then decided that it would not be worth the trouble: it would take a careful planning and, in addition to that, he would have to discharge Yuuri’s power again which would be impossible to do discreetly. Besides, he had told too many lies already. 

In the end, even if Wolfram never wanted for a repeat of that stressful night and knew that Yuuri had no wish to know, he still talked to Yuuri and explained the matter. Yuuri was not happy about it but it seemed that after that stressful night he had been reassured and had less anger and doubt left in him.

Wolfram and Heseren spent another night together which was nearly identical to the previous one – Wolfram could not remember a thing, Heseren – this time not having a hangover – remembered some details, but never admitted that to Wolfram. 

In a few weeks, the news of Heseren pregnancy gave Wolfram a reason for some cheer. He heaved a sigh of relief and went to tell Yuuri the news knowing that even if Yuuri said he did not want to hear anything about that part of his life, it would bring Yuuri’s speculations about him and Heseren trying to find an opportunity to have sex to a stop. Now Wolfram expected their relationship to return to normal. Yuuri took the news without the same enthusiasm as Wolfram, but, realizing why his husband immediately came to him after receiving the news, he also felt calmer. 

Heseren was also relieved that the tension and furtive behavior finally would be over. She had made friends with the three wives of the Great Sage. She had meals with them, the Great Sage and their five children; four others had already been sent to the Military Academy. The wives were friendly and chatty, but rarely had much free time, busying themselves around the youngest children, not differentiating among them, as if each of them had three mothers. 

While it still was warm outside, sometimes she went for walks in the garden. A few times, from afar she could see or hear Wolfram and Yuuri also walking there, the husbands discussing the events of the day. Sometimes they kissed, caressed each other, whispering softly, thinking no one could see or hear them. But even if not alone, the two of them were not reserved with their affections in front of other people. Heseren came to understand that she had been wrong about their relationship and that the connection between them ran much deeper than she had imagined. That somewhat disturbed Heseren because during one of the husbands’ private moments, she realized that she was jealous. That realization was automatically followed by another – she was in love with Wolfram.

Then came autumn and the flowers in the garden withered, leaves fell and it became too cold to walk outside except for short periods. She started spending her time learning how to cook from her new friends. She chatted with them, played with the kids or read books to them. During one of those moments she realized that she really wanted the child she was carrying. She started sewing tiny clothes and made sure everything would be ready before the child was born.

Wolfram visited her almost daily, probably somewhat concerned that she felt lonely, which she sometimes did. He did not talk much but always asked about her health and if she needed anything. He was excited at the thought of becoming a father. Sometimes she could see that he was curious and wanted to feel her stomach to see how his little one was doing, but then he would become self-conscious and never did.

She was glad he thought about that because she had worried that Wolfram might see the baby simply as an accessory for his House or a needed tool. She was happy that it seemed that Wolfram was genuinely interested in his son. She really hoped and prayed that it would be a boy.

TBC


	13. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
>  Warnings: Yaoi (male x male), Yuuri x Wolfram. Some other pairings. Angst. Adult topics.  
>  A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 33 +. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 13

OoOoOoO_Nine months later_OoOoOoO

Wolfram came to a halt abruptly as Gisela suddenly slammed the door in his face. Mouth agape, he stared at the closed door. It opened again.

“Men should never be allowed to see this,” she blurted out and closed the door again. A loud click that followed told Wolfram that besides being closed, it was also locked.

“Yes, yes, Gisela is right,” Cecilie nodded in agreement. “Your father never recovered from his experience.”

Frowning, Wolfram turned to her. Was this the reason his father and mother were never close after he was born? It had never occurred to him. Stunned, momentarily forgetting everything else, he stared at his mother.

“He turned pale when your head showed,” Cecilie continued. “The shoulders followed, and he turned red. I remember hearing a loud thump when the midwife said that it was a boy.” She shrugged, patting the empty chair next to her, inviting Wolfram to sit there.

Wolfram turned back to the locked door behind which Heseren was giving birth to his child. He started at a loud groan wafting from there. His legs suddenly felt weak and, somehow dragging himself to the chair, he fell into it. He felt he was sympathizing with his father.

For about twenty minutes Wolfram sat as if nailed to the chair, listening to the assorted sounds coming from the other room with dread then he stood up abruptly and started pacing the length of the small waiting room. At first, Cecilie was clipping her nails then pulled out her cosmetic bag and started polishing them.

Both of them started at the sound of a door opening, but it was the outside door that opened. A little unsure of himself, Yuuri stepped inside.

“I heard the time has come?”

In his distress, Wolfram nearly threw himself at his husband. Instead, he just nodded and continued pacing. He did not see Gwendal enter the room behind Yuuri and give his back a thoughtful glance.

“Is everything alright?” Yuuri asked, approaching his husband.

“I don’t know. The midwife and Gisela are both there, but…” Wolfram’s course suddenly changed, started to lead him towards Yuuri. “They have been in there for hours!”

Yuuri stepped back as Wolfram’s hands fisted into his jacket.

“Wolfram, calm down, it will be alright.”

Wolfram looked past Yuuri’s shoulder at his brother, only now noticing him. To have him come with Yuuri… If he were in a state to pay attention to such things, he would have found it somewhat weird. Yuuri and Gwendal had disagreements on one basis or another quite frequently. They respected and acknowledged the value of each other but usually tried to avoid each other’s boring company. Except for state affairs, that normally led them to arguments or heated discussions causing Gwendal to lose his temper and break a table or two, they could not find much else to talk about. Wolfram sometimes thought that it was just because Yuuri and Gwendal were too similar in their final goals, but vastly different in how they went about achieving those goals.

“C’mon, sit down, Wolfram,” Yuuri said, pulling the blond’s fingers off his black uniform. “Gwendal is right. Try to relax.”

At another moan escaping the door, Wolfram nearly told Yuuri that he was stupid telling him to relax, but just let himself be seated next to his mother who had never stopped polishing her nails. Yuuri pulled another chair from the other side of the room and sat down by his husband. He wondered if he would be so nervous if it were his child being born behind that door.

“This brings back memories,” Gwendal said staring at the door. He was leaning on the wall opposite the door. “Just like when you were born. You were really loud. And now you’re having your own child.” He sighed. “Time sure flies fast.”

Wolfram stared at him. “Tell me…” he said then. “Mother said that my father…”

Gwendal turned to meet his brother’s stare. “You want to know if it’s the reason for him leaving soon after you were born? Yes, I think so.”

“Why didn’t you…?”

Gwendal shrugged. “And do you feel better knowing that he simply could not help it?”

Wolfram chewed on his lower lip. He was not sure. It made him feel as if his father’s coldness was something he had brought together with himself into this world. And yet…

“Yes. Now at least I know the reason.”

“Ah, my boys,” Cecilie said, raising her hands to admire the nail polish, “you shouldn’t talk about such a sad thing at this time.”

A piercing shriek sliced through the air and Wolfram jolted in his chair. Yuuri frowned in pain as Wolfram had instinctively grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. Seeing Wolfram worry so much... his pale face made Yuuri aware of the worry and fear. He regretted that he had not helped when he could have. He could have taken Heseren to the hospital for tests to ensure that the fetus was developing normally and the child was going to be healthy. Right now he didn’t even care if it was going to be a boy or a girl. He just hoped it was going to be healthy.

A child’s loud cry pierced the air. It was followed by Yuuri’s grunt as Wolfram nearly broke the bones in his hand by squeezing it with all his might. The cry continued, and even if fifteen years ago Yuuri had promised to be with his husband for better or worse, he tried to peel Wolfram’s fingers off his hand before his bones gave in. Finally, he managed without Wolfram even noticing and instead held Wolfram’s hand in his.

During the piercing baby’s shriek that was unceasingly protesting against the dry and cold air he was suddenly pushed out into, they did not hear the key turn. Wolfram stood up when the door opened. Gisela appeared in the doorway. The baby suddenly quieted down, letting them hear what Gisela was saying.

“Your Highness, You can see the baby.”

With legs that he could not feel, Wolfram rushed to the door. Gisela stepped aside to let him in. Heseren was half-sitting in the bed, under a cover, propped up by a number of pillows. The room still smelled of blood and some other things that Wolfram did not recognize, but it was clean, only a few buckets with hot and murky reddish water standing near the wall, the midwife wringing a cloth above one of them. The baby had already been washed and swaddled, and Heseren was nursing it. Wolfram could see a part of a small reddish face.

“It’s a boy,” Heseren said. “What do you want to name him?”

Wolfram continued staring at the reddish wrinkled face. “I don’t know yet,” he muttered. “Can I hold him?”

“Of course,” Heseren nodded. She pulled the baby off her nipple and held him out for Wolfram. “Hold him like this. Support his head,” she illustrated.

Obviously the baby had not had enough milk and was squirming in his father’s arms, making small sounds of protest.

“Hmm... Not bad.”

Wolfram turned around to see his mother standing on her tiptoes and watching the baby over his shoulder. “It’s a baby, Mother, not a horse you want to buy. Your grandchild, in fact, and he looks perfectly normal.”

“Well, I never thought you’d have children before Conrad, not to mention Gwendal. Those two are really useless,” Cecilie hummed. “Utiu-tiu,” she waved her finger in front of the baby. Say “Cherry”.”

“Mother!” Wolfram moved away from her. He walked over to Heseren and prepared to give the baby back to her.

Wolfram suddenly stiffened. Heseren turned to see the king standing in the doorway. He had never come to the side of the castle she was staying in. He had never spoken to her either.

The black-haired man stared at the newborn in the prince’s arms for a few long moments, then his eyes rose to the blond’s face. 

“It’s a boy,” the blond whispered.

The king smiled. “Congratulations,” he said while walking over to his husband, embracing him over his shoulders and giving him a light peck on his lips. His concentration returned to the baby. “A son, huh?” he said in a soft voice, ruffling Wolfram’s hair, grinning contentedly. “He’s really cute.”

The bright smile that suddenly lit Wolfram’s face was overwhelming. Jealousy and desperation tore through Heseren’s heart – she could never make him smile like that. This was the reality – no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many children she gave him, Wolfram would only ever see this man.

From the newborn, the king’s eyes slid to her face. “Congratulations,” he repeated. There was light amusement noticeable in his dark eyes and she wondered if her feelings were clearly on display. The dark eyes studied her face for a few moments then he nodded. “Lady Buanta.”

Wary, she bowed her head. So it took giving a son to Wolfram to be finally recognized by the king. Why did he come here? To show her that giving Wolfram a son changed nothing? There was nothing challenging or possessive in the king’s posture. She wasn’t a threat. They both knew this now.

A few seconds later Wolfram noticed the strange atmosphere. From his son, he raised his head to look at Yuuri, then at Heseren. He leaned down and held out the baby for her to take. Then he moved back to Yuuri to stand at his side.

Heseren watched them go. Wolfram’s husband was his top priority. Not her, not even his son. 

XXXXX

Wolfram’s father came to see his grandchild four days later. Wolfram led him to the other wing of the castle, to his Entrusted Lady’s chambers.

Heseren’s and the baby’s health were good; everything seemed to be normal, and two days ago Gisela had helped Heseren to move back into her chambers. Gisela still came once a day to check on the mother and her child. 

“Your Highness. My Lord,” Heseren bowed after the men entered.

Heseren had not expected visitors. She was just out of bed, still wearing a light peignoir. Even though the baby was only four days old, it had become irritating to Heseren that her son was made into a showpiece for all and sundry. It seemed like he was on display twenty-four hours a day and anyone who wanted to could come and see him, poke him or prod him whenever they wanted.

But this visitor had been anticipated. Heseren wanted recognition. Yuuri’s recognition was tangible, but at the same time there was something humiliating in it. That, and Wolfram’s lack of interest in her made her look for appreciation elsewhere.

But to her frustration, the lord’s eyes did not even register her. They set on the sleeping form of the newborn in the cradle next to her bed. Together the men approached the cradle, and Wolfram reached in for his son, making Heseren sigh inwardly; she had just managed to put the pettish child to sleep. Wolfram lifted the squirming baby who wanted nothing more than to be left in peace.

Wolfram could not decipher the look on his father’s face. He didn’t seem happy... but there was a much softer look in his eyes than usual. Wolfram thought that it might be the simple fondness for the evidence of his own blood.

“Have you given him his name yet?”

Wolfram shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Don’t let the woman name him,” the lord said, ignoring the fact that Heseren stood only a couple of meters away from him. “Give him a strong name.”

Wolfram was not sure what to say. He nodded while the older man was looking at the baby in his arms. Then his father held his hand out over the child’s forehead then touched his fingers to it as if giving him a blessing.

“I can already tell that you’ll be a better father than I ever was,” he said, sighing. He removed his hand and clapped Wolfram on his shoulder.

Quite surprised, Wolframs stared at his father. He thought he should say something, but the right words eluded him. The moment felt precious and he felt that if the wrong words left his mouth, they would just spoil it. 

Dispelling the moment, Wolfram turned to lower his son back into the cradle.

OoOoOoO_Two years later_OoOoOoO

A skinny blond boy was sitting on a bench under a huge lime tree and was fidgeting fervently with something in his hands. After hearing someone approaching, the small head shot up and wide green eyes concentrated on Yuuri’s face. Yuuri was never able to shake off the surprise that Lakarde looked so much like his father. 

The two-year-old was tiny and his face was dirty from the sweets he had been eating earlier. He had another candy in his hands, trying to peel off the shiny wrapping. Yuuri wondered where he had filched them from. Lakarde had an annoying habit of secretly taking and eating all sweets he managed to find and no amount of scolding helped. He often ended up with an upset stomach after overeating them.

His reaction coming a great deal too late, the boy hid the candy behind his back. Yuuri chuckled at that. “Doing it again, Lakarde?” He held out his hand, and the boy, frowning but obedient, put the candy on Yuuri’s palm. Yuuri wished Wolfram would forbid his son from eating so many sweets; the boy did not listen to his mother, but Wolfram was another matter.

Despite his indignitly dirtied face, the wide eyes already were bright emerald and the regular features shone with intelligence. Lakarde was a strong name, given the boy by his father. While around Lakarde, Yuuri was frequently overcome by a strange mix of feelings. He loved Lakarde, of course – he was just like his own son after all, but there was also that feeling of resentment that was brought on by Lakarde’s very existence.

Due to the circumstances, Lakarde was everyone’s child. Yuuri had not interacted much with Mazoku children earlier. He passed them on the streets or sometimes he saw them if someone from the nobility brought them together. Only after he got to know Lakarde, he could understand Wolfram’s words about Mazoku children to the full extent. They were different. They matured much faster.

Lakarde was loved by everyone, especially by his uncles. Conrad, for example, every spare minute that he had spent with his nephew. It was still too early to teach Lakarde swordplay, but Conrad made sure to lay the foundations for the child’s interest in it. He would take Lakarde with him to show him sparring comrades or men training with their elements. It was early to tell, but Lakarde seemed to like watching them.

The one who loved Lakarde the most was probably Gwendal. Gwendal was a busy man, but somehow he found the time where he could be seen with his nephew or knitting something for him. Lakarde loved Gwendal’s toys. And to Gwendal, the most rewarding thing was to see Lakarde see playing or sleeping with them.

Yuuri secured the candy inside the pocket of his jacket then held out his hands for Lakarde. “Come here, let’s go find your father.”

Obediently, Lakarde approached, and Yuuri lifted the boy into the air, seating him on his right arm. Lakarde’s dirty fingers fisted into Yuuri’s jacket to steady himself. 

“Do you know that your mother is looking for you everywhere?” Yuuri asked, walking down the garden path towards the castle. “Didn’t you hear her call you?”

His full concentration on Yuuri’s right pocket where the candy was, Lakarde did not even hear Yuuri. Or just pretended not to hear him. Yuuri sighed. Sometimes he could not shake off the feeling that a grown-up was hiding inside that tiny body. It was even more uncomfortable when those wide green eyes would set on him as if knowing his thoughts. Lakarde never smiled at him or was excited like when he saw Wolfram, his mother or his grandmother. The child must have felt that he had some issues deep within him. It made Yuuri feel guilty.

Yuuri pushed open the door to Wolfram’s study. “Here, look at what I brought you,” he said, lifting Lakarde then seating him on Wolfram’s desk. “He filched some candies again.”

Wolfram looked at his son’s filthy face. Expecting to be scolded, the boy shrank back. Sighing, Wolfram dug in his pocket for a handkerchief. He pushed the documents he had been working on aside, poured some water from the carafe into a glass then dipped the handkerchief into it. He pulled his son over the top of the desk so that he sat in front of him and started wiping the chocolate off.

“Were they any good?”

A little timidly, Lakarde nodded.

“Really? Do you have any left?” Wolfram asked.

“Yuuri took one from me,” the child said, pointing at Yuuri’s pocket. He realized now that he was not going to be scolded and relaxed comfortably on the desk while his father was cleaning his face. Usually his father showed his displeasure at once, and as he did not seem to be angry, it meant everything was alright.

“Oh?” Wolfram held out his hand towards his husband. After Yuuri returned the candy, Wolfram saw that it was from the box of candies that Shori had brought from Earth for Lakarde’s second birthday. “We still had some?” the prince wondered. He dangled the candy in front of the child’s face. “Will you share it with me? I also like candies.”

Lakarde nodded his head enthusiastically. Yuuri watched Wolfram unwrap the candy, break it in two and hold out one part for Lakarde. In a second the candy was in Lakarde’s mouth, the child humming happily at the sugary taste, as Wolfram popped the other half into his mouth and smiled at the boy.

“It’s really good,” Wolfram said. He finished wiping Lakarde’s face and his small hands then threw the dirty handkerchief onto the windowsill where it landed with a wet smack. “Will you bring me some candies next time you get them?” he asked his son. “It’d be a nice break from work. We could go into the garden and eat them.”

Lakarde’s eyes were sparkling with joy. “Sure!” he agreed happily.

Wolfram ruffled the blond locks. He lifted Lakarde off the desk and put him on the ground. “Go find your mother; she’s been looking for you everywhere. Just don’t tell her our secret,” he winked.

Lakarde gave him a bright smile and ran towards the door. After a few jumps he managed to reach and lower the handle, pulled the door open and scurried out.

Yuuri plopped into the chair in front of his husband’s desk. It had all ended up with Lakarde now having his father’s permission to steal candies.

“It’s just candy,” Wolfram waved off Yuuri’s disapproving look. “I remember filching some at his age. Besides, now I can make sure he doesn’t overeat them.”

Yuuri shrugged. He never interfered in how Wolfram was raising his son even though he wanted to say a thing or two. He watched Wolfram retrieve another handkerchief from his drawer. He poured the dirty water from the glass onto the amaryllis that stood on the windowsill then filled it with clean water again. After dipping the cloth in the water, the prince walked around the desk to Yuuri who gave his husband a confused look.

“He got you dirty,” Wolfram explained. He leaned down and started wiping Yuuri’s jacket.

Yuuri stretched his neck trying to see the smears on the lapels of his jacket. He wondered if Lakarde had done it intentionally.

A loud knock echoed in the study.

“Come in,” Wolfram called out, frowning at the jacket. It was going to stain.

“Have you seen Lakarde?” Heseren asked as she stepped into the study. Her step faltered as she saw the scene before her. She had not expected the king to be here.

“Yes,” Wolfram nodded. “He just ran off to look for you. He has already finished eating the candies,” he added with a chuckle. With a nail he scrapped at the darker spot that had been left by the candy and water then shrugged. “Give it to the servants to wash,” he said to Yuuri.

Heseren glared at his back. “Take it seriously, will you?”

“Yes, yes, I’m taking it seriously,” Wolfram said, bringing the water and napkin back with him to the desk. He sat down, placed the glass and cloth to one side and started ruffling through the documents on the desk.

“We need to be united in raising him,” Heseren said. “He always runs to you if I don’t allow him something!”

“No, he doesn’t,” Wolfram denied calmly, having already read halfway through the document in his hands. “Besides, he’s only two years old. Too many rules won’t make him more compliant, you know.” In fact, he found half of his Entrusted Lady’s rules absolutely needless for a two-year-old child but never said that to her. 

Heseren gave him another glare. As if she did not know what he thought about her setting the rules! “You don’t give him enough attention!”

“Oh? I think he gets plenty.”

‘From you’ sounded in Heseren’s head even if Wolfram did not say that aloud, making her nearly lose her temper. She saw the king standing up and heading towards the door. He was wearing an amused expression on his face.

“See you during dinner,” Yuuri said before closing the door.

“Right,” Wolfram muttered, not raising his head.

Even after closing the door Yuuri could hear Heseren’s loud voice and Wolfram’s calm ‘yes’, ‘oh’, and ‘really’. When it came to Heseren, Wolfram had tons of patience. He never snapped, never shouted at her, but also hardly ever listened to what she had to say. Yuuri knew that Wolfram’s calm got on Heseren’s nerves the most. She wanted Wolfram to somehow respond. When he and Wolfram had an argument, one could almost always guarantee that they would end up shouting at each other or even start shoving each other around. Wolfram would never raise a hand against a woman. With Heseren and Wolfram it usually ended with Heseren’s ‘Is that all you have to say?!’ followed by Wolfram’s calm ‘yes’. 

Yuuri wished, but at the same time knew that it was impossible, for Heseren to leave after Lakarde reached five years old. Wolfram would want her stay with his son. It was important for the child to have both parents. Yuuri understood that perfectly. Another thing was, that with the passing years, he found himself worrying less and less about Heseren. Wolfram had never given him any reason to suspect him.

XXXXX

“Where is Lakarde?” Yuuri asked, circling Wolfram’s chair that had been pushed close to the window. The blond was reading a long sheet of paper which very likely was a letter. He seemed to be very comfortable. It was warm in the room and Wolfram was only wearing his shirt and trousers, his boots kicked aside, his jacket hanging on the other chair that was still standing at the table.

Wolfram turned his face up to him to answer a short greeting kiss. “He’s with Heseren. It’s his bedtime.”

“It probably takes enormous effort to put that buzzing bearbee to sleep,” Yuuri said, leaning over the chair to take a glance at the paper Wolfram was holding.

Wolfram seemed somewhat surprised. “Lakarde is a very obedient child.”

Yuuri shrugged. Lakarde was not as obedient as Wolfram thought. Wolfram thought this because he was nearly the only one Lakarde listened to. The second person was Yuuri himself, having quite a lot authority in the boy’s eyes even if Lakarde did not particularly like him. Then came Gwendal, whom Lakarde adored almost as much as his father. Wolfram’s lack of interest in and sometimes even his disregard for Heseren made Lakarde feel that he could also ignore most of what she said. Lakarde was a good child, but his priorities had been formed by his father, which was not necessarily a good thing. 

“What do you have there?” Yuuri asked poking the paper in the blond’s hands.

Wolfram motioned at the table where a huge pile of similar paper sheets were in a messy stack. “A small part of that. It’s an account of the entire year of the financial and other operations relating to von Bielefeld lands. It’s a copy my father’s accountant sent to me.”

Yuuri observed the pile that he had not noticed earlier. He sighed. “So...Can I expect you to show up in our bed before midnight?”

Wolfram chuckled. He started folding the sheet in his hands. “Nobody said I have to make myself familiar with them right away.” He lowered the paper onto the carpet and turned around to face Yuuri.

“In the mood for some action, I see…” Yuuri muttered softly, leaning down to capture the blond’s lips.

Wolfram wanted to say something but Yuuri’s tongue slid into his mouth and he just hummed something indiscernible which Yuuri took as “yes” anyway. His fingers slid into the blond’s hair to grasp it and angle his head to a more comfortable position. Deepening the kiss, Yuuri felt Wolfram’s arms wrap around his shoulders. They kissed for a few minutes without touching each other otherwise, then Wolfram’s arms came off Yuuri’s shoulders and he pushed at his chest.

“What?”

“My neck is cramping.”

Yuuri humpfed, then let go of Wolfram’s hair. Really, he did have Wolfram’s head at an awkward angle. “Let’s move it to the bed,” he muttered, brushing over the blond’s lips with his.

Yuuri stood up from where he had squatted down while kissing his husband and turned to the bedroom. Wolfram also stood up. He took the document off the carpet and walked over to put it onto the table then followed Yuuri. 

Yuuri had already removed his jacket and was putting it on a hanger. Wolfram started taking his shirt off. He went to the wardrobe. In a comfortable silence they undressed and went to bed together. Leaving a few candles to smolder, they started kissing again, the atmosphere heating up quickly.

“Hmmnn…” Wolfram purred as Yuuri’s hands slid over his sides and ribs. Yuuri had him on his back, underneath him. Tonight Wolfram felt like letting Yuuri pleasure him. Sighing contently at the caresses, he reached out for Yuuri’s hair and buried his finger in that black mass. Yuuri lowered his head, and his tongue circled the blond’s right nipple then washed over it with his tongue. He felt the nipple hardening under his attentions. Where his and Wolfram’s bodies touched, he could feel the blond reacting.

Wolfram startled and gripped Yuuri’s hair tightly as Yuuri’s teeth suddenly scrapped over the other nipple. The sensation was painful, Yuuri’s teeth nearly having broken the skin. Wolfram’s head fell back onto the pillow and he shivered when Yuuri’s lips and tongue brushed over the skin to soothe the irritation. The teeth scrapped against his skin again and the blond tensed, but instead of the expected sting, Yuuri’s head moved under his hands and then hungry lips pressed to Wolfram’s mouth. 

A loud moan escaped lips amidst the wet kisses, and Wolfram was not sure if it was his or his husband’s. Yuuri’s hand had already slid under the band of his underwear and was pushing it downwards. Without breaking the kissing, Wolfram raised his hips to let Yuuri finish the task. A few seconds later, his underwear slipped off the bed and fell to the floor. In response, Wolfram’s hands slid down to Yuuri’s lower regions. Yuuri moaned and his hips thrust into the hand that grasped him through the cloth. Wolfram stroked him a few times teasingly then his hands snuck around Yuuri’s waist to slide downwards and push the underwear off.

Yuuri grunted as his husband’s palms firmly squeezed his globes. He broke the deep kiss and moved closer to the nightstand, where he opened the drawer to search for a tube of lubricant. He retrieved it then shifted back to squat between the blond’s spread legs. 

Wolfram bent his knees. He shivered when Yuuri’s cool fingers circled his opening. Seeing the reaction, Yuuri removed his fingers and rubbed them together to warm them. A moment later he lowered his hand again. This time Wolfram did not shy away and Yuuri breached him.

“Mmnnn…”

“You like it?”

Wolfram’s eyes opened to look at Yuuri who was giving him a heated look from between his legs. He moaned softly when Yuuri kissed his knee then his lips trailed down to his inner thigh. His fingers moved in and out, making the blond tense in pleasurable feelings every time they brushed over the spongy nub. 

Soon his fingers were sliding in and out easily, and Yuuri removed them. He positioned himself at the right angle and started pushing in. Once he was fully sheathed, he looked down at Wolfram. His husband’s eyes were closed, his mouth partly open, his back somewhat tense in pleasure created by the fullness. Wolfram loved it.

Yuuri started moving, and Wolfram sighed. His arms wrapped around Yuuri’s nape and shoulders and he opened himself for the oncoming pleasure. With every thrust, his body felt heavier and more feverish. He arched his neck to press his head deeper into the pillow.

“Ahhh…”

Yuuri grinned at the sound of those soft moans. Wolfram was already lost. Yuuri thrust harder.

Yuuri suddenly stopped, and Wolfram’s confused eyes blinked open. He looked at Yuuri to ask why the pleasure was interrupted. Did Yuuri want to try some new position?

“What are you doing here, little one?”

Frowning, Wolfram blinked at Yuuri then turned his head toward the side of the bed where his two-year-old son was staring at them. His eyes flying wide open, he shoved Yuuri off him.

“Damn it,” Wolfram cursed. Snatching a sheet to cover his nakedness, he rolled off the bed. He grabbed Lakarde by his hand and hauled the boy out of the room. He made Lakarde sit on the sofa.

“Where is your mother?” Wolfram asked while wrapping and tying the sheet around his hips. His balls were hurting. Ignoring the discomfort, he sat down next to Lakarde.

Lakarde braced himself – his father always said “Where is your mother?” when he did something wrong. “She’s sleeping,” he muttered. “I couldn’t fall asleep and…”

Wolfram sighed. He could see Lakarde was obviously confused by what he had seen and now he was scaring the child even more. “It’s alright. I just didn’t expect to see you…this late.” He reached out his hand to ruffle the kid’s hair then pulled Lakarde closer to his side. Lulled, Lakarde pressed his head to his father’s chest. Then his head rose to look at Wolfram. He yawned.

“Are you angry, Father?”

“No, Lakarde, of course, I’m not. I’ll just get my robe and take you back to your room. I’ll stay until you fall asleep, alright?”

“Mhm,” Lakarde nodded. “Father?”

“Mm?”

“Why was it standing upright?”

“What was standing upright?”

“Well, your peepee. Why was it up? Does it hurt?” Lakarde asked, worried. “You were moaning.”

Wolfram felt as if all of his blood rushed to his face at once. “Ehh…” he stammered. “No, no I’m alright. You don’t need to worry.”

Lakarde gave him an unsure look then finally nodded. Still blushing fiercely, Wolfram returned into the bedroom. He didn’t think he had ever been so mortified in his life. He whipped the sheet off his hips and threw it into Yuuri's face as he sat up in the bed.

“Not a word. Don’t you say a single word,” he told his husband while pulling his robe on. “I’ll go put him to sleep.”

Sighing, Yuuri pushed the sheet off his face and plopped back onto the bed.

Half an hour later, Yuuri heard the door opening, and Wolfram entered the bedroom. He started stripping the robe off and tossed it onto the carpet next to the bed. 

“Gods, what a humiliating disaster! ” Wolfram groaned, climbing into the bed, his face burning red.

Yuuri chuckled. He wrapped his arm around the blond’s waist and pulled him to his side. “It’s not a big deal. He obviously didn’t even understand anything anyway.”

Wolfram buried his face in Yuuri’s chest. “He asked why my peepee was standing up. Can you imagine that? I thought I’d die from embarrassment.” He felt Yuuri’s chest shaking. He smacked Yuuri. “It’s not funny at all!”

Yuuri tried to hold in his laughter, but it burst out anyway. “And what did you say?” he laughed.

“He thought I was ill, so I just assured him that I was alright.”

Yuuri burst out laughing again. “That’s so cute!”

“Yuuri!” Wolfram smacked him on his chest again. “Cut it out!”

“Alright, alright,” Yuuri stroked his husband’s back soothingly. He ruffled the blond locks. “So do we continue? My peepee has turned blue, you know. Ouch!” he grunted as Wolfram smacked him again. “Come here, you,” Yuuri rolled on the bed, laughing. He trapped Wolfram under his body. Neither of them was hard anymore and it would take some effort to return to the previous state.

Grinning at the mildly pissed-off blond, Yuuri leaned down to give him a kiss. At first Wolfram tried to pretend it didn’t interest him, but in a minute Yuuri had his husband moaning into his mouth and the mood Lakarde’s visit broke started coming back. It didn’t take long and soon they were ready to continue.

Yuuri glided down Wolfram’s body so that he was now between his legs. Showing that he was ready, Wolfram spread his legs wider and bent his knees. Yuuri slid back inside, while Wolfram held his breath for a few seconds. Once Yuuri was inside, he shifted slightly to get more comfortable. Yuuri started thrusting and the wave of lust washed over them again.

“Ahmm…” Wolfram moaned in answer to Yuuri’s increasing grunts. His legs were wrapped high around Yuuri’s sides while his hips were feverishly moving with his husband’s movements.

Yuuri shook his head to lose the droplet of sweat that had accumulated on the tip of his nose. Wolfram was nearly there, his gasps becoming desperate, his hands gripping at his hair.

“I’m…Ahh… I’m!” Wolfram arched while his body tensed.

Yuuri felt the blond’s cock jerk, spilling in-between their stomachs. A few second’s later Wolfram sagged back onto the sheets. Yuuri thrust through the clenched muscles and also came. When the first wave of pleasure subsided, he rested his head on Wolfram’s chest. Later he pulled out of the blond and lay beside him.

Yuuri watched Wolfram who was dizzily staring at the ceiling. He reached to put a lose lock of hair behind the blond’s ear. Brushing over the flushed cheek with his fingers he wondered. They had been married for many years now and Wolfram was already a father, but he had just recently started shaving. Yuuri could feel the soft stubble that had grown during the day.

“Mhn?”

Yuuri moved his hand away. “Nothing.” Yuuri looked at Wolfram’s fingers that caught his hand before he could have hidden it under the cover. He watched Wolfram pull it back to his face. His eyelashes fluttered at the feel of the blond’s lips brushing over his palm.

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?”

Yuuri gazed at the emerald eyes then shrugged finally. “Midlife crisis?” he offered.

Wolfram chuckled at his words. “You’re too young for that.” He rubbed his cheek against Yuuri’s hand then rolled to Yuuri’s side to snuggle against him. “Are you worried about something?”

Yuuri thought about it. “No, not really. I think it’s just my workload.”

Wolfram put his head on Yuuri’s chest and, unconsciously, started drawing circles on Yuuri’s stomach with his fingers. “I won’t protest, Yuuri, you know that.”

Yuuri sighed. He put one hand behind his head, wrapped his free arm around Wolfram. Maybe Wolfram was right? He wasn’t getting any younger after all. Maybe he seriously was having a midlife crisis? But it was not as if he felt the necessity of having children. His life felt meaningful without them. It was just a thought that sometimes came to him when watching Wolfram and his son. He thought that he would like that. But he wasn’t in a hurry.

“Wolfram, that tickles.”

“Huh?”

“Your fingers.”

“Oh.” Wolfram stopped drawing curves and just rested his hand on his husband’s stomach. Then a smile spread over his face and he leaned in to place a quick kiss on Yuuri’s chest. “We could marry our children off to each other, you know?”

Amused, Yuuri chortled at the suggestion. “You have quite a vivid imagination…”

Wolfram grinned. “Wouldn’t it be fun, though?”

Yuuri yawned. He heard an answering yawn coming from Wolfram. “I’m not sure it would go that way.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Wolfram yawned again. “‘m sleepy."

TBC


	14. Part 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 35+. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 14

“Wolfram?”

“Hm?”

“Could you help me with this?”

Wolfram turned to Yuuri in whose hands there were a few tattered sheets of yellowish paper. Carefully, Yuuri was putting them onto the table.

“So now you bring work into the bedroom…”

Yuuri shook his head. “It’s not work.” 

He sat down at the table, and Wolfram pushed another chair over to sit at his side. The blond pulled over the candlestick closer and took a look at the dilapidated papers. From the words that he quickly skimmed through Wolfram presumed that it must be some old legend. It was written in one of Shin Makoku's dialects, the one that was still used in von Christ lands. 

“You want me to translate it for you? Why? You never paid much attention to legends before, did you?”

“I was just interested,” Yuuri explained. “You know, it always made me wonder… Astrobiologists consider that there is a possibility of Goldilocks planets existing, but this… Four planets similar to each other and in some weird way connected to each other... And all of them have life. This exceeds all expectations. This is something too incredible to be true.”

“Hmm?” Wolfram hummed, ruffling through his hair. He yawned. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t get much of that. Astro…whatever. What are those Goldilocks planets? Is there much gold on them?”

Yuuri pushed the papers over so that they were now right in front of Wolfram. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think that the title has anything to do with gold. I think they are just named after a character from a fairytale, a fable. Goldilocks planets are planets that have the needed conditions and environment to sustain life.”

Wolfram yawned again. “So you mean that others don’t?”

“No, they don’t.”

“Hmm… So it’s that rare? I always thought there are many worlds and people live on them. Well, I believe most Mazoku think that. I’m not sure about Humans, but… Well, the legends are similar everywhere.”

“The legends?”

Surprised, Yuuri looked at Wolfram. Then he shrugged. “Well, I suppose it depends on the culture and beliefs. Anyway, can you read the text?”

“Yeah, but there are quite a few words that are either missing completely, or I am not able to read them because of the poor condition the papers are in.”

“Never mind, just read it.”

Wolfram yawned. With the though that the faster they deal with this, the faster they go to bed, he started reading in a monotone tone. “In ancient times the Great All-seeing and All-knowing God Nohas…” Wolfram tapped his fingers on his chin. “I don’t remember a god like this. Anyway, so He spat out Mearan. From His saliva ten oceans appeared.” Wolfram blinked. “It’s wrong. We have only eight oceans.”

“Read on.”

“Alright. So He hung the sun and…something to rotate around it. Stars shone above. The Great God then created animals and forests with fields for them. Life…did something.” Wolfram sighed. “An entire sentence is smudged with some marmalade. Did you give the papers to Lakarde?”

“No, I didn't. Wolfram, just read it!”

“Why the hell are you so impatient? The Great God was happy. Thousands of years…” Wolfram coughed in annoyance. “Thousands of years something…was happening. The Great God created a man who could understand his greatness and worship him. Man was shown the true ways of… Hmm…” Wolfram drawled, scratching at the smudged ink. “Whatever,” he decided. “But Man was weak and useless.” 

Wolfram took another page. The part of the first sentence was missing again, so he read the end of it. “…were stronger than him. To the men who were worthy the Great God…” Wolfram rubbed his forehead, sighing. “…one of four powers. Man chose and now could live and spread. The unworthy died or were exiled.” He looked at Yuuri, hoping his husband was already asleep, but, to his disappointment, Yuuri was intently staring at his mouth, waiting for the continuation. “So…text is missing…whatever passed and Man became greedy, and fought among themselves for lands, ships, cows and women. Four Great Houses… Ooo, it is getting interesting,” he commented. “Oh, I can’t read that. So to end these wars, the Great God created three other worlds and banished the leaders.”

Yuuri stared at the old piece of paper after Wolfram had finished reading it. “Here we have four worlds,” he said finally. “Amazing. When was this document written?”

“It’s only a copy. Very likely a translation of some source,” Wolfram said after having turned the papers over in his hands a few times. “The original legend might have come from some written source some six thousand years ago.”

“Can’t be.”

Wolfram shrugged. “Legends have always been written down and rewritten. Priests are scrupulous with things like that. Although, I wish they had been more scrupulous about things other than mindless worshiping and filling their stomachs.”

“Hmm…” Yuuri drawled. “Do you think those “unworthy” and cast away were Humans?”

Wolfram stood up and walked over to the cabinet to pour himself a drink. He shrugged. “Very likely, but it’s just a legend. We have many others that explain the four elements and worlds. Well, yes... this one is one of those rare ones that at least makes some sense.” With a glass in his hand, he turned to Yuuri. “Once I read that the world had been ruled by mice and Man had been their servant, but then they tricked those mice into complying with their wishes and Man became the one ruling the world.”

Yuuri scratched his head, then indicated that he also wanted a glass of wine.

“You know what I think?” Wolfram asked him, pouring him a glass. “You should ask the Great Sage. Although… He might create a few fables on his own. Just to amuse himself.”

Wolfram brought Yuuri his glass and Yuuri relaxed into the chair. Sipping the wine, they sank into thoughts that had been induced by the text. They both turned around after hearing the door screech. 

“Father?”

“Lakarde? What is it?” Wolfram took a sip from his glass and lowered it to the table. Frowning, he looked at the child. After that time when Lakarde caught them by surprise, he had warned Lakarde to always knock before entering the bedroom. “Why didn’t you knock?”

Lakarde’s eyes widened slightly. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“It's alright. What did you want?”

“Grandmother said she wanted to see you.”

“Did she tell you why?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Sighing, Wolfram took his glass to finish it, then stood up. “Hopefully, I’ll be back soon,” he said to Yuuri. He held out his hand for Lakarde’s and the two of them walked out of the bedroom.

Lakarde’s small hand squeezed his father’s. His feet were hurriedly arranging themselves on the carpet while he was trying to keep up with the bigger man. A smile spread on his face. He was happy that his grandmother had business with his father and that he got to spend some time with him. In fact, he had been lurking behind the door for a few minutes before opening it. He sometimes did that.

His father acted differently around his mother. With Yuuri, his husband, he sometimes got into spats where the two of them would shout at or even push each other around. It had never happened with his mother. His father and mother also sometimes had disagreements, but his father had never raised his voice to her. His mother was a wise woman; his father had said so himself. Wolfram displayed patience and control when dealing with women. He was more forgiving and never rude as he was with some men. Maybe it was like that because women were more beautiful than most men and wore long skirts that hindered walking and fighting?

There was another reason why Lakarde was so interested in observing his father. A recent event bewildered and scared him and he was not very sure what to think about his father anymore. It happened a few months ago and originally it should have been a simple journey. They had been traveling to visit his grandfather. It had been his 300th birthday and there was supposed to be a huge event. Almost every nobleman in the Demon Kingdom had been invited. Yuuri and Heseren weren’t traveling with Lakarde and Wolfram. Yuuri was busy dealing with Human rebels in the west and Heseren’s mother was ill, so the two of them were planning to come later, directly to the celebration party.

That night they were staying at a wayside inn. It was a nice and clean place. There were quite a few men staying there, most of whom were also traveling to meet his grandfather. The inn was busy and hustling as a beehive with men sitting at the tables on the ground floor. All of them were at least slightly drunk, the jokes and laughter floating around. It was quite late in the night already and most of their wives and children were already in bed, sleeping. He was the only child who was allowed to sit at his father’s side this late, even if he was nearly the youngest of all the other children.

There were also a few lords who were traveling to pay their respect to his grandfather and his father was forced by protocol to spend his time among the nobility. Although, after they returned to the room they were renting, he said that he was sick of all that pomposity and that he would have rather preferred not to meet any of them. 

They had a quick wash which Lakarde knew his mother would not have liked had she been there. But his father had said to him more than once that a man must not be picky, but not be a pig either. He liked his father’s position better. It seemed to be more sensible. Lakarde didn't understand why someone would want to rub their skin off in a bath that took forever. Or have elaborate hairdos and makeup that took half the day to put on, and then the other half the day to take off. When he had asked his mother about that, she had said something about him being lucky to have inherited his father’s looks and needn’t be worried about it. He didn’t really understand much of what she had said then. His father was always easier to understand.

After the wash, still dressed in their trousers, they laid down in the large single bed. Lakarde was still excited and not sure that he would be able to sleep. But the long evening, paying attention to what the men around him had been saying and doing, exhausted him. So a few minutes later, after listening to the strange sounds of people passing their door and the noise coming from down stairs, he fell asleep.

He was not sure what woke him up. Maybe some sound, maybe some instinct; but one second he was soundly sleeping, another staring at the darkness with his eyes wide open. There was a shadow right in front of him. There were more shadows sneaking into the room. He screamed then, loud and panicky.

His father woke up instantly. The shadow in front of Lakarde turned into a living torch instantaneously. Something glistened in the man's hand, but whatever it was it fell away with a part of his body as Wolfram cut down with his sword. Another shadow turned into a block of ice right in front of them, then fell to the floor. His father grabbed him then and said to hold onto him tightly. 

With Lakarde sitting on his left arm, clinging to his neck, and a sword in his hand, his father kicked the door out. There was someone behind that door, but they had no chance to speak or even moan as the door flamed up with a fire that made the tapestry in the corridor roll up instantly at the hellish heat. They moved forward, and when Lakarde looked back over his father’s shoulder, he saw the dead bodies of their royal guards lying on both sides of the entrance to the room. They had been killed by the intruders. Right now there was nothing left from of the door – just some black ashes.

More armed men appeared in the half-lit corridor, challenging Wolfram, and his father killed all of them ruthlessly, sparing none. Then the doors in the long corridor started opening, guests appearing, the shouts and screams filling the air. His father’s retinue appeared, armed men who wore their colors. 

It was over in five minutes but that was the scariest thing in Lakarde’s young life. In those five minutes he realized that his loving and rational father could turn into a swift, efficient killing machine and kill everyone without mercy. At the same time it made him feel even more special as his father had always been kind to him. 

Deep in thought, Lakarde frowned at the carpet then his face cleared up again and he bounced happily beside his father. His eyes glinted with mirth as he had seen a few dresses on his grandmother’s bed and she was obviously going to ask his father's advice on which one to wear for tomorrow’s party. To put it mildly, his father was not an expert in fashion. 

“You know something.”

Lakarde blinked then raised his head to look at Wolfram. Wolfram looked back at him. His son always had that expression on his face just before filching candies off the table. He could hardly suppress a smile at the way Lakarde was suddenly squirming after being found out. 

“Irsdredss,” Lakarde muttered.

“What was that?”

“It’s a dress.”

“Oh no,” Wolfram groaned, stopping in his path. He held Lakarde as the boy nearly fell over at the sudden stop. “She wants me to choose her a dress.”

Lakarde pouted. Not only he did not manage to spend more time with his father, but he also failed his grandmother. There was no way Wolfram would go see her now.

“Let’s send Kyota.”

Lakarde blinked up at his father. His small head was trying to understand why Kyota’s name came up.

“No! Leahir would be even better.” Wolfram turned around and started walking back. “Hey, you,” he motioned for the guard that stood at the exit door to come closer. “Tell Leahir Sandel that Lady von Spitzberg wants to see him. There’s a very serious and confidential dress matter awaiting him.”

The guard gave both von Bielefelds a blank look, then hurried off to execute the command.

“Why is it Leahir wears dresses? He’s a man, right? Men wear trousers, right?” Lakarde wondered aloud after the guard left. 

“Ahh…” Wolfram ruffled through his hair while pulling Lakarde with him back to his and Yuuri’s chambers. Lakarde’s questions always gave him headaches. Heseren was better at dealing with them. “Well, some men like wearing skirts and dresses.”

“The other day I wanted to wear a dress and Mother did not let me. Why?”

“You wanted to wear a dress?”

“Yeah, it was a nice one,” Lakarde said, bouncing merrily, not aware that his father did not seem very happy.

Wolfram groaned inwardly. Raising children was unbelievably hard.

Events would prove Wolfram’s thoughts to be right...over and over again.

OoOoOoO_Two years later_OoOoOoO

When Wolfram entered the royal chambers, he was suddenly rooted to the floor. Lakarde stared back at him, unsure of what to do, then let go of his privates and lowered his shirt to cover them. Quietly, Wolfram walked to the table and opened the drawer to take the keys that he had come for. His son, meanwhile, stood up from the carpet and pulled his trousers on.

Without saying a word, Wolfram left the room. 

Lakarde stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door. He wasn’t sure what happened and what he was supposed to do now. His father had reacted quite strongly, but said nothing. Lakarde didn’t know if he had done something he shouldn’t have, but his father’s wide eyes were still alive in the back of his mind. Whatever it was that Lakarde had done, he wasn’t going to do that again.

Walking back to his study, Wolfram wondered about the occurrence. Was it normal? The first time he got interested in something like this was only because of Kyota and then he was already almost fourteen. Lakarde was not even five years old. Maybe this was the result of that time when Lakarde saw him and Yuuri having sex? Was he curious about it? Was Lakarde…? He had to talk to someone about this.

After talking with Gisela, Wolfram’s fears were more or less allayed. It appeared that it was quite common for children Lakarde’s age to be curious about their bodies and seek out the repetitive pleasure they discovered. It was also a way for children to dissipate their anxiousness or stress. Very likely Lakarde’s curiosity had also been stimulated by seeing him and Yuuri in bed. Wolfram guessed that all of it came into play. He felt that he should talk to his son. The problem was that he had no idea what to say. He wanted neither to encourage nor to discourage his son. After giving some thought to this, he decided to leave it be. He just made sure Lakarde started practicing swordplay and hand-to-hand combat to help keep him occupied. Neither of them ever mentioned the incident again.

OoOoOoO_A year later_OoOoOoO

Irritated, Wolfram looked at his son. Lakarde was telling him about how he defeated one of Murata’s kids. He raised a handful of documents for Lakarde to see. But the hint was still not enough to stop Lakarde’s blabbering. Wolfram frowned; Lakarde had never been this chatty. Lowering his head back to the papers, Wolfram tried to concentrate on his work. About fifteen minutes later he noticed that Lakarde was still in his study. At some time the child had gone absolutely quiet, and he had not even noticed. Wolfram looked at the grandfather clock at the wall.

“Lakarde,” he gave the child an angry look, “you’re ten minutes late for your practice.”

Lakarde said nothing. Just sat there, in front of the desk and fidgeted with his fingers. Surprised, Wolfram suddenly realized that Lakarde was trying to stall for time. This was the first time he has seen his son not wanting to go to practice. Lakarde’s relationship with his trainer was warm. The boy was fond of and respected him. Despite the training being difficult and quite harsh, Lakarde had never complained, quite the opposite.

Wolfram put his pen down and leaned back into the chair. “Is something wrong? Do you feel ill?”

The boy shook his head. He slid off the chair slowly and walked to the door. He still seemed reluctant while reaching for the handle then snuck out quickly. He looked shifty, but Wolfram decided to write the situation off. Maybe Lakarde was just tired or feeling lazy.

After closing the door to his father’s study, Lakarde wandered around through the corridors until he saw Yuuri who gave him a strict look after seeing him roaming about idly. Frowning, Lakarde turned away and dragged himself to the training hall.

The trainer asked Lakarde where he had been and Lakarde lied that his father had delayed him with a discussion about his studies. They started with a few circles around the hall to warm up, then he was asked to demonstrate the sword-fighting moves he had learned yesterday. After that, Lakarde practiced them for about half an hour while combining those moves with ones he had learned previously. Later they switched to hand to hand combat. 

At the end of the lesson the boy started doubting himself and began thinking that he might have imagined the bad things. It was not until he was shown a few new moves with a sword and the trainer took his hand into his to correct his stance. That also included the man pressing against Lakarde's back. At first, it didn’t seem as if it were something intentional, and Lakarde told himself that it was only normal when the two of them were moving together. But a few seconds later Lakarde found himself unable to put the actions under the category “normal”. He could instinctively feel that the overly eager rubbing against his back and the suddenly heavy breathing at his ear were something…something that probably shouldn’t be happening to him.

His face red, Lakarde stopped swinging his arm and stared at the far wall blindly. It was the same as yesterday when the man massaged him. Mortified and lost, he stood for a few moments, then did the same thing he had done yesterday – he ran. But this time he ran not into his room, but back to his father’s study. His father was probably the most fearsome person in the world, and his study was the only place where Lakarde felt safe.

Lakarde knocked softly and, not waiting for an answer, snuck inside.

“What is it, Lakarde?”

Not happy with the silence that was his only answer, Wolfram frowned at his son. “Isn’t it too soon for your lessons to be finished?” He was stupefied when, after his words, Lakarde’s lower lip started trembling. He had never seen his son crying, not after he became old enough to start learning how to wield a sword.

Wolfram put his pen aside and stood up. “Come here, Lakarde.” He squatted down when his son approached. The boy stood, his head lowered, hair covering his face. Wolfram could see him biting his lower lip. He lifted the boy's chin to see his petrified face. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

Lakarde’s lips twitched but nothing came out. 

“If I don’t know, I can’t do anything about it,” Wolfram said. “You will have to tell me or you’ll have to deal with it yourself. Can you deal with it yourself?”

“A…a…I don’t know,” Lakarde muttered. 

Wolfram was surprised even more when his son suddenly started blushing and tears started threatening to come out again. Then it hit Wolfram like a wet cloth in the face. The smell. Disbelieving, the prince gritted his teeth.

“You can go. He is discharged,” he said, straightening up. “Tell my guards to bring him here right now.” Lakarde paled, but Wolfram could see that the boy was also relieved. “How long has this been happening?”

“S-since y-yesterday. Pro-probably,” Lakarde stuttered out.

“What did he do?” Wolfram wasn’t sure if that was a good idea to ask, because Lakarde blushed fiercely and seemed to be on the verge of fainting.

“I…I…not sure…touched a lot…” he mumbled with his head down, his face burning. “Was weird…”

Wolfram nodded. He bent down then hefted Lakarde, seating him on his desk, his fury flaring up again at the thought at someone touching the tiny five-year-old. “Look at me. Now listen,” he said after Lakarde did, “you did the right thing coming to me.” He brushed over the boy’s cheeks to wipe the tears away. “It’s alright. He knows that he shouldn’t have done that to you and he is the one at fault. I’m glad that you came to me as soon as you noticed that there was something wrong. It will be alright now.” 

Seeing that Lakarde had calmed down, Wolfram ruffled the boy’s golden hair. He sighed. “I want you to speak with your mother. Tell her I want her to speak to you about…bees and flowers. You don’t need to tell her everything that happened today. But come to me after she explains things to you. I believe some of her stories might be a little too…flowery; women tend to embroider certain things. Alright?”

Lakarde nodded. He was already intrigued. What that was about bees and flowers? His father never cared about bees, much less flowers. Seeing that the conversation was over, he slid off the desk and went to the door.

“And, Lakarde, if there’s someone else who tries something like that, you are allowed to use force. Any kind of it. People are not allowed to do things like this without one’s permission.”

Lakarde nodded. After his father had said that he suddenly realized that his father's response would include much more than just discharging the trainer. He would have been worried if not for his father telling that he did the right thing. He had noticed that his father’s words always came true, and if his father had said that he needn’t worry about it, it meant he needn’t.

“Another thing... If I am not available for some reason, go to Yuuri or Gwendal and tell them what you wanted to tell me. They will help you.”

Lakarde nodded again, but already knew that there was little chance he would go to the king. There seemed to be some kind of agreement between them not to cross each other. But if his father said it, it meant the king would have to help him.

While closing the study’s door, Lakarde understood that he had learned an important lesson – one could never trust outsiders.

Once the door closed, Wolfram’s facial expression changed. With darkened eyes he stared at the door, then started unbuttoning his jacket. He shrugged it off and tossed over the desk where it flopped down onto his chair. Opening a desk drawer, he removed a pair of well-worn leather gloves, laying them close to hand. Wolfram leaned on the desk and waited.

Soon the door opened and Lakarde’s trainer entered. Wolfram gave him a short smile, then lowered his head and started taking off his cufflinks. Still concentrating, he started rolling up his shirt-sleeves. Finally, he put on his leather gloves. He raised his head to look at the man’s face again.

“I wanted to discuss your payment.”

XXXXX

“What the hell is this?”

Yuuri stared at a body that was being dragged out of his husband’s study. The two guards who had been hauling the man by his ankles stopped to look at him. The man’s legs were dropped to the floor when they saluted him. A second later the guards grabbed their victim by his ankles and continued dragging him down the corridor. Yuuri thought, that under the bruised and puffed out mask that the man’s face had become, he could recognize Lakarde’s tutor.

“Hey, Wolfram?” Yuuri called, entering the study. He was just in time to see his husband taking a pair of stained leather gloves off. Was that blood? “Sweetheart,” Yuuri raised his eyes from the gloves. He smiled, his smile heralding an oncoming storm. “What did you do to Katuma?” 

“I’ve just beaten the shit out of him,” Wolfram admitted calmly. He tossed the gloves onto the floor. “Clean that,” he motioned to the servant who had just entered the study. As the servant had already been informed about the task, he was carrying a bucket and several cloths.

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed even more. Wolfram sat down, and Yuuri followed his lead, seating himself opposite Wolfram’s desk, waiting for an explanation. Both of them waited for the servant to finish cleaning the floor. Finally, with the now reddish murky water in the bucket, the servant left the room. The heavy steps echoed behind the door while he was leaving.

“He was molesting Lakarde.” 

“He what?!”

“Touching and the like. Lakarde noticed it yesterday, and I don’t think it went farther.”

Yuuri stared at him then his body relaxed and he leaned back into the chair. “I’ll make sure he gets no job in Shin Makoku. Damn it!” he cursed. “Disgusting!”

Wolfram could not agree more. He got up from his chair and went to the cupboard. He retrieved a bottle of wine then looked at his husband. Yuuri shook his head. 

“Leave it.” He stood up and raised his arm. “C’mon. Let’s just go to our chambers and have a drink there. It's been a long day.”

Nodding in agreement, Wolfram pushed the bottle back into its place on the shelf. They usually ended their work an hour later, but Yuuri was right – he was disgruntled and would not be able to concentrate on anything else today. Yuuri’s arm wrapped around Wolfram’s waist, rubbed his back soothingly, then tugged him towards the exit. 

Once in their chambers, Yuuri opened a bottle of white wine and the two of them drank from their filled glasses silently. After emptying his second glass, Wolfram kicked his boots off and stretched out on the bed. The softness under his back felt soothing.

Yuuri watched his husband. Wolfram had long ago gotten rid of his inclination towards alcohol but Yuuri still tried to keep an eye on Wolfram in case the vice came back.

“Are you alright?”

Wolfram turned his head to look at his husband. He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’ll just have a nap. Wake me up for dinner.”

“Alright.”

Yuuri capped the bottle and, with the glasses, carried them over to put onto the table. Even trying to put them down carefully, the glasses jingled. He heard Wolfram shift in the bed. Deciding to join his husband, Yuuri took his shoes off. He climbed onto the bed.

A few minutes later a loud knock echoed from the door. Yuuri got up and walked over, opening the door. Lakarde was behind it. 

“Is Father here?”

“Yes, but he’s asleep. You…”

“I’m not sleeping yet,” Wolfram’s voice wafted out. “Lakarde?”

Whisking past Yuuri, Lakarde was already in the bedroom. In a second, he was on the bed, next to Wolfram. He frowned a bit after smelling the alcohol wafting from his father. 

“Hmm? Did anything happen?” Wolfram asked when the boy stayed silent. He reached out to stroke the small blond head, then ruffled the soft hair and pulled the child close to his chest. “You’re having your first summoning in a week, right? You sure are growing fast, aren’t you?”

Yuuri could see that Lakarde was nearly purring. Catching the glance Lakarde threw him, Yuuri started looking for his shoes.

“Don’t be late for dinner, you two,” he said before leaving the bedroom.

After having the conversation as promised with his mother, Lakarde found himself thinking that he would have liked to hear his father explaining all that. His question had made his mother blush fiercely. But the speech that had come after that made his face burn even more than hers. Now, talking with his father, he understood why he had been told to speak with his mother first. He didn’t understand all of the things his father said, but now he was able to put the things that he had seen his grandmother doing with that baron under what his father had called “sex”. It really hadn’t been that which his mother had called “making sweet love”. He was alright with “make”, but he wasn’t sure about how much “love” there had been and there had been no “sweet” at all. Lakarde understood that he had been taught another lesson – women really liked to sweeten things.

XXXXX

The ceremony of the first summoning of the elements had been performed millions of times. Now, watching his son climbing up the steps of the temple for the God of War, Wolfram remembered his own. It had not lasted long for him – he and the fire element clicked almost immediately. It was different for everyone, some taking longer, some needing only a minute to find an element akin to one’s character and contract it. 

Lakarde walked up to the top of the stairs, and the High Priestess guided him towards the middle of a small platform. There were four containers, each of them holding different kinds of material. Due to his heritage, Lakarde was expected to be closest to the fire or earth elements, so he was made to kneel in front of the ones with burning oil and filled with soil. Meanwhile the rest of the containers, one filled with water and an empty one were put behind him.

Wolfram could tell that Lakarde was nervous. The boy’s eyes were scanning for him in the audience, and he gave a reassuring smile when they found him. Lakarde seemed to become calmer. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

As expected, the flame in the pot with oil suddenly flared up in front of Lakarde then started flouncing about in the pot. Then it dissipated, leaving Lakarde panting and leaning on his palms. 

It seemed that it was over, and Wolfram stood up. He motioned for the priestess to get Lakarde off the platform. But then his attention was caught by something moving near Lakarde. The water element. A tendril of water had risen from the pot and was floating over Lakarde who was staring at it with a surprised expression.

Lakarde wasn’t the only one surprised. The entire temple went silent. Wolfram met Yuuri’s worried eyes, then turned to the priestess who had gasped. 

“Lakarde!” Heseren shouted, grabbing up her dress and rushing after Wolfram who was already mounting the platform where Lakarde had suddenly collapsed. 

Wolfram knelt next to the boy. Shaking, Heseren knelt at Lakarde’s other side. She was not even sure what to do.

“Mmm?” Lakarde hummed after his father patted him on his face. The boy’s head rolled over to give him a bleary look.

A relieved exhalation was torn out of Wolfram’s throat. Carefully, he scooped Lakarde up into his arms and stood up. 

“Is he alright?” Yuuri asked as he approached them.

“It seems he only fainted,” Wolfram said. “A healing spell should do the trick, but first I want to move him out from under everyone’s eyes.” He carried his son off the platform and down the stairs, and then turned to an adjacent room where he laid Lakarde onto a sofa. 

“Bring a glass of cool water and a damp towel,” he ordered a young woman whom he saw in the room.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“‘M ‘kay,” Lakarde muttered, trying to get up.

Wolfram pressed his palm to the boy’s chest. “Shh… Lay still.” He unbuttoned Lakarde’s shirt to free the boy’s neck and chest. 

“‘S ‘kay, Mom,” Lakarde reassured Heseren who was standing beside them and wringing her hands. “Don’t worry.”

“Gisela will come shortly,” Yuuri told Wolfram.

Wolfram nodded thankfully. He turned back to the sofa where Lakarde was resting. Heseren was giving him a questioning and scared look. There were rare cases when one was be able to contract multiple elements. In case it did happen, one of them was usually dormant. From what they had seen it was not the case with Lakarde. People wielding two or even more dominant elements rarely were stable, their mental state always in danger of deteriorating. 

Wolfram cast his eyes over Lakarde’s pale face. Lakarde’s character had never been easy and open, the boy being enigma even to his father and he knew it would be even more problematic when the boy started going through puberty. But he had never expected Lakarde to be able to contract two seemingly opposite elements. It already showed a great contradiction in the boy’s character.

“Wolfram.” 

Wolfram turned to look at Yuuri who placed his hand on the blond's shoulder. 

“Don’t forget that I wield all four elements.”

Wolfram nodded, silently. He turned towards the door to see the woman he had sent for water and a towel. He took them from her and approached Lakarde.

“Here,” he held out the glass for Yuuri to hold for him while carefully helping Lakarde sit up. He took the glass from his husband. Lakarde emptied the glass greedily, and Wolfram asked the woman to bring more. He dabbed the damp towel over Lakarde’s face and temples, then brushed it over the boy’s chest.

Gisela rushed in about three minutes later. Lakarde had started drowsing by this time and was just lying listlessly on the sofa. 

After examining the sleepy boy, Gisela wasn’t able to tell them much. Physically he seemed to be fine – nothing hurt or was damaged. Lakarde was very tired but that was normal – contracting an element was an exhausting experience, two of them putting a huge strain on still underdeveloped body.

In twenty minutes, more than the half of the spectators that had just gathered to rubberneck had left the temple without waiting for the news about Lakarde’s health. Others: lords, invited guests, relatives and the ones who had invited themselves, but were interested in the outcome were still in the temple, waiting.

Wolfram didn’t spare any of them so much as a glance when he carried his sleeping son through the buzzing temple and out the wide doors. He held out Lakarde to Heseren who had already climbed into the carriage. She took the boy from him, then he climbed in. Gisela followed, and the carriage pulled away from the temple and turned in the direction of Blood Pledge Castle.

Wolfram felt a little guilty for leaving Yuuri behind to deal with the mess, but he wanted to be sure that Lakarde was alright. 

TBC


	15. Part 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 43. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 10.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 15

“Lakarde!”

On his way to the dining-room, Yuuri turned around to see Heseren approaching the youngest von Bielefeld. Waiting for his mother to catch up with him, the ten-year-old stopped in the middle of the corridor. Even seen from a distance, from Heseren’s posture, Yuuri could see that the woman was beside herself with anger.

“Lakarde!” Heseren scolded after catching up to her son. “I was told that you stole the Great Sage’s sword!”

“He doesn’t even know how to use it anyway.”

Heseren went red with fury at her son’s calm response. It was pointless to talk to Lakarde. “I’ll talk to your father,” she spat out through gritted teeth, turning on her heel to head in the opposite direction. She missed the reaction on Lakarde’s face, while Yuuri could see a clear look of fear imprinted on it.

“Mom! I did not steal it! Aledora was pestering me. Chasing me around with it, so I just took it! Just so he stopped!” Lakarde spilled in one go. “It’s in my room now. I’ll take it back right after dinner,” he added.

Heseren turned around. The red had seeped from her face. “One day your smart mouth will get you into trouble,” she muttered. “Alright, I’ll talk to the Great Sage and his son.”

“Don’t tell Fa...” Not finishing the sentence, Lakarde frowned. He noticed Yuuri standing at the door leading to the dining-room and watching the little scene. It didn't matter what he said. Everything was going to be reported to Wolfram anyway.

Giving Yuuri a dark look, the boy nodded curtly to his mother, then passed her and intended to go back the way he had come.

“Don’t even think about skipping dinner,” Heseren warned him.

His face one big frown, Lakarde changed his direction and headed towards the dining-room. He followed Yuuri in then took his usual place at the table, directly opposite Yuuri. His father was not here yet, and, in complete silence, Lakarde leaned gloomily into his chair.

Yuuri watched Lakarde from the corner of his eye. Lakarde looked tiny in that huge chair. But it was obvious that the skinny body was going to fill out with the coming years; the shoulders would widen, arms become stronger, legs firmer, but probably he would never be tall, just like his father never was.

Yuuri knew why Lakarde had not told his mother the truth right away – he had been angry with his mother for thinking that he could steal something. Lakarde could have a sharp tongue once crossed. Up until he was five years old, Lakarde was very much like any other child Yuuri had seen on Earth. He was curious and bubbled with joy at every new thing or detail. When Lakarde got older, the difference became much sharper. In addition, the jump that happened half a year ago was quite sudden and very visible. Lakarde began to act reserved around people and became a quiet kid. The change was so sharp that Yuuri had been worried that it might be some sort of mental illness. He had wanted to take Lakarde to Earth to see a good psychologist, but then Wolfram told him that very likely it was just puberty.

Lakarde’s character was rather different from his father’s. His wide green eyes looked at everyone with a neutral expression. But sometimes his actions or absently expressed opinions showed that his passivity had nothing to do with shyness or hesitancy. Even with the obvious differences in their behavior, Lakarde still was very similar to his father in the way his mind worked – it was sharp and calculating.

Lakarde seemed not to ever care about other people’s opinions, but the one whom he adored and always looked up to was his father. As he grew and became more reserved, it wasn't that noticeable. But to anyone observing Lakarde it was obvious that he craved any warm word, any affectionate look or touch from Wolfram. The usually passive emerald eyes would shine with delight after receiving any kind of attention. 

Things had really gotten awkward when the boy got older. Not interested in playing with other children and living neither with his father nor his mother, but rather with an entire household of grown-ups, Lakarde had grown up in different surroundings than usual. There were times when Yuuri would get a feeling that they were rivals for Wolfram’s attention. Sometimes Lakarde seemed to want to turn things into some sort of sick competition. Yuuri presumed that the kid saw him as a hindrance to his father and mother. If not for him, Lakarde would have a normal family. 

Yuuri also knew that Lakarde did not get along with his grandfather. He didn’t know why, but there was always friction between the two. It was obvious that Lakarde’s grandfather loved the boy and always tried to earn his grandson’s love and respect. The coldness with which Lakarde would answer to all of those attempts disheartened his grandfather, threw the people around them off and made them uncomfortable. Lakarde had never been a very social child, but because of his good upbringing he usually wouldn't make his feelings so clear and definite. That made Yuuri think that what Lakarde felt was more than dislike.

“Hey,” Wolfram said, entering the room. He cast a look across the dining-room. “Where are the others?”

“Grandmother is away with some random moneybags,” Lakarde said. “Anissina is experimenting on Gwendal and Gunter. Conrad and Yozak are still having their honeymoon. In the stables. Very likely.”

“I’ll ask you to show more respect to your elders,” Wolfram said, passing Lakarde. He leaned down to Yuuri who could see that his husband could hardly keep himself from laughing. The blond gave Yuuri a quick peck on his lips. 

“But essentially, your deductions are correct,” Wolfram said, turning back to his son and seating himself at Yuuri’s right. He chuckled at the way Lakarde’s face cleared up immediately. “So, how was your day?”

Lakarde cast a quick look at the king, but the man said nothing. “It was the usual,” Lakarde said.

“Really?” Wolfram drawled. “I heard a rumor of someone hitting someone else on his head with a sword handle. And then that second someone took the sword and hid it somewhere. And then there was such a ruckus that…”

“I’ll take the sword back right after dinner and apologize for taking it without the Great Sage’s permission.”

“Good boy. Does your head hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. Let’s eat.”

“Yes, Father.” 

What Lakarde liked the most was that his father was very quick with trivial matters like these and, unlike his mother, never paid them much attention. He heaved a sigh of relief and dug into his meal.

XXXXX

Heseren watched her son rummaging about under his bed, then he pulled out a sheathed sword. She wondered what other treasures Lakarde had under there then decided just to leave it alone.

“So this is the one?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lakarde nodded.

“Looks very plain,” she commented, seating herself at the table. She looked through the books and notebooks on Lakarde’s desk. “Have you done your assignments?”

“Mom, you stopped asking me about this since I was six years old. I always do my work. Sooner or later.”

“Right.”

Heseren watched her son leave his room. 

She was not that sure what to think about Lakarde and Wolfram’s relationship. It seemed to be a bit odd to her. It was obvious that Lakarde loved and respected Wolfram, even as the boy feared his father's anger and disappointing him. Sometimes though, Lakarde's love for his father seemed more like worshiping. The boy listened to Wolfram’s every word. He never objected to or disobeyed his father. That aside, she knew that outside the family it was quite common for Lakarde to get into conflicts with servants, courtiers or other children. Murata’s wives had complained more than once that Lakarde was getting into fights with their sons.

It seemed to her that Wolfram was too cold to Lakarde. She knew that Wolfram adored his son. The thing was... Wolfram was afraid of spoiling him and tried to make him as self-sufficient as possible. Wolfram was overdoing it though. She had tried talking to him, but Wolfram didn’t think that there was anything wrong with the way he was bringing up his son. She wasn’t sure that it was wrong either. Her father was an old ass who beat and humiliated his wife and used to slap his daughter around. In comparison to that, Wolfram was a saint, even if he had quite a lot of shortcomings.

XXXXX

Yuuri was walking down the corridor. He had business with Murata. Usually he would have sent for the man but it was evening already, so he decided to pay him a visit. He passed the door leading to Heseren’s chambers, then suddenly stopped as he saw a huge plate attached to Lakarde’s door. He looked at it closer. 

DO NOT ENTER! TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.

The word “SHOT” was crossed out and above it “FRIED” was written instead.

Yuuri stared at the door as if struck by lightning. Then, laughing, he continued on. He knocked on Murata’s door. It was opened and he entered the room. After discussing the latest news from his recent visit to Earth, Yuuri asked Murata about that plate.

“Oh, I brought Lakarde a souvenir from my last visit to Earth,” Murata said, grinning. “He improved it to his unique taste.”

“It seems that he does have a sense of humor,” Yuuri chuckled.

“Yeah, he shows it once in a while, but one can never be sure if it’s humor or it’s what he really thinks. Wolfram used to be like that.”

“Hm? Seriously?” Yuuri wondered. “I think they are quite different.”

Murata grinned mischievously.

XXXXX

“Oh, by the way,” Yuuri added after stretching out in the bed. He sighed contently at the way the cool sheets engulfed his somewhat feverish body. He thought that he might have caught something while staying on Earth for a few days.

“Hmm?” Wolfram hummed. He was sitting on the bed, buttoning his pajama top.

“Have you seen your son’s door?”

“Oh yeah. The door. I found it quite interesting.”

“You know, I'm not so worried about Lakarde anymore,” Yuuri said. “It’s a typical thing any teenager would do. It seems it’s really puberty after all.”

“Of course.”

“Doesn’t it bother you at all?” Yuuri wondered.

“Why should it? I was a very boring teenager. I hope at least my son will have fun during his puberty.”

Yuuri’s face reddened with contained laughter. “If one calls getting drunk and riding on a fire lion while yelling ‘Bet on me winning! My lion is the fastest!’ boring…” he could not suppress his laughter anymore.

“Who the hell told you?” Wolfram demanded, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“And then they chased you throughout the entire countryside for about an hour!” Yuuri roared with laughter. “Obviously it was Kyota’s idea, but the poor thing passed out five minutes after getting on his fire lion. But you, though… Hahaha, no Wolfram, you were no model teenager! Don’t give me that shit! Hahaha!”

“That damn Conrad!”

“I don’t know about Conrad, but this I heard from Murata,” Yuuri could not stop laughing. “It seems that it has become a well-known story.” He reached for Wolfram who was still blushing and pulled him backwards into the bedding to playfully tackle him. “I had no idea you were so wild back then.” Cuddling close, Yuuri put his head onto Wolfram’s chest. He played with the buttons on the blond’s top. His expression started turning more serious.

“To spend over twenty-five years with the same person and still be in love…” he muttered. “Amazing.”

A little disturbed, Wolfram ruffled through his husband’s dark hair. “I hope this is a cordial declaration of undying love, instead of the beginning of a speech leading to a very unpleasant topic.”

“The first one.” Yuuri felt his husband relax. The king thought that maybe they really lacked those declarations if, as soon as he made one, Wolfram turned suspicious. Was Wolfram waiting for something like this to happen? Sliding his hand over the blond’s side, Yuuri lifted his head to look at his husband. 

“Hm?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, nothing.” Then he blushed faintly. “I was just thinking that I’m really happy. I don’t think I have anything more I could ask from life.”

“Oh.”

Wolfram’s careful “oh” meant he was not sure what to say or whether he was supposed to answer at all. Wolfram was no good with sentimental topics like this. Yuuri sighed. Before meeting Wolfram he had always presumed that gay men had an easier time showing their emotions than non-gay men. Wolfram’s inability to deal with topics like these proved his theory was wrong. Usually Wolfram ended up stuttering through his tries to express himself. Although most of the time, afraid to say something stupid, he just silently listened. Wolfram could be blatant when it came to possessiveness and their rights to each other, but as soon as it required putting his feelings into words, he would become too self-conscious, start blushing and just mumble random words. That was alright, though.

“I know you're happy, too, aren’t you?”

Wolfram nodded. He really was. There were always ups and downs, but he thought his life a successful one. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders. “I really made the right choice,” Wolfram chuckled. He sometimes wondered (usually when he and Yuuri had a spat) how it would have turned out if he had married Kyota or someone else. He always reached the conclusion that, with Kyota, he would have been divorced at least ten times already. The man would have just driven him mad. This thought would cool Wolfram down and make him less interested in continuing to fight and more interested in making up.

“Yuuri?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s have sex.”

“I though you were tired?”

“Well, I’ve just thought that I quite like you.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Seriously? It took nearly thirty years for you to realize that?”

Wolfram did not bother to reply. With his hands buried in Yuuri's hair, he pulled Yuuri’s head down to place a kiss on his husband’s lips. Soon the kiss became heated, deepening, engulfing both of them in a passionate daze. 

Yuuri grunted softly as Wolfram’s hands slid over his back and down to grab at his ass and squeeze. Their tongues clashed and battled, then Yuuri raised his head to catch his breath. Wolfram’s palms slid back up to his shoulder-blades, as he began nipping softly on the corners of Yuuri’s lips. 

With the back of his hand, Yuuri brushed over his husband’s temple and the blond hair. He could feel heat wafting off the flushed cheeks. Wolfram’s pupils were already dilated, green irises hardly visible. 

“It seems you really do like me…” Yuuri grinned down at him. He nipped playfully on the blond’s nose. “Gh!” Yuuri gasped suddenly as Wolfram’s hand snuck in between their stomachs to grasp him.

“It seems that I’m also fancied,” Wolfram purred, kneading Yuuri’s hardening length through the pajama bottoms. “Especially here.”

Yuuri moaned at the ministrations. “I fully agree,” he gasped out, lowering his head to softly graze on the blond’s chin and neck.

Wolfram purred at the pleasant attention. He let go of Yuuri’s member to push his pajama bottoms down. As he could not reach far, Yuuri rolled off him to finish the task. He let the discarded cloth slip onto the carpet next to the bed. The underwear followed. Then he crawled back to Wolfram and they kissed continuously while caressing each other. Yuuri started fumbling with the blond’s pajama top.

Yuuri was soon done with the buttons, and the top of Wolfram’s pajama fell open. Yuuri’s palms slid over the smooth chest. Wolfram hummed softly as Yuuri’s palms grazed over his nipples. “Hmgmm…”

The blond reached out to his husband’s pajama top to unbutton it. He shivered in pleasure when Yuuri leaned down and their bare chests came flush. He could feel Yuuri hard and throbbing against his thigh. Then Yuuri withdrew to work Wolfram’s pajama bottoms off. He tossed the piece of cloth somewhere behind him and slid his body in between the blond’s thighs. Kisses fell on the blond’s chest then the trail moved south. After a few moments Yuuri straightened back up again.

“Pass me some lubricant.”

Wolfram moaned softly as the words were accompanied by Yuuri’s hand slipping between his thighs. The fingertips brushed over his opening, applying nearly enough pressure to breach him.

“Yuuri, I’m still somewhat sore from this morning,” Wolfram muttered softly, biting back another moan while the fingertips were suggestively circling around his anus.

“Hmm…” Yuuri hummed, pressing his lips to the blond’s length. His tongue snuck out to taste the droplet that had accumulated on the tip. “What to do..?” Yuuri raised his eyes to look at the blond. Wolfram’s cock twitched when their gazes met.

“Mm?” Yuuri purred questioningly when the blond sat up. He let himself be pushed down onto his back. He answered the kiss that Wolfram pressed to his lips. Then the blond turned around and crawled down Yuuri’s body. Getting the picture, Yuuri turned onto his side. Wolfram was shorter and it was more comfortable when they did this turned on their sides. 

Yuuri moaned softly when Wolfram took him into his palm and stroked a few times. He felt Wolfram’s wet tongue flick across the head and, involuntarily, his hips pushed forward.

Intending to give as good as he was getting, Yuuri leaned in to plant kisses along the jutting length, then took the tip in his mouth. The administrations on his own cock stopped for a second as Wolfram tensed in pleasure, then they continued.

The room soon was filled with the sounds of slurping, gasping and panting. Yuuri released Wolfram’s cock from his mouth, then sucked on his index finger. Once covered with saliva, he slid his hand behind Wolfram then pushed the digit into him. 

“Mgh!” 

Wolfram pulled away and hips bucked forward in reaction, and Yuuri nearly choked. As the wave of unexpected pleasure passed, Wolfram continued to suck and lick on his husband. His hips now were following the rhythm Yuuri’s fingers inside him set up. He was getting closer and closer with every stroke and lick.

“Yuuri,” Wolfram panted after pulling away a minute later, “slow down or…ahh…I’m go…ohh…”

There was not a chance that Yuuri could answer him while Wolfram’s cock was down his throat. He just hummed and sucked harder, picking up the pace. He felt Wolfram tensing around his fingers, the blond’s cock engorged and throbbing in his mouth and then Wolfram let go. He grunted something mindless and then was coming.

Yuuri swallowed, frowning somewhat at the bitter taste. When the blond’s cock stopped spurting in his mouth, and started to soften, he let it slip from his mouth. A few seconds later, he felt Wolfram’s mouth sluggishly continuing the ministrations on his own still hard length. 

It did not take long for Yuuri to also come. He arched back and pushed his hips forward as far as he was allowed. He felt Wolfram swallow around him, milking him until he was spent and sated. Giving a long content sigh, Yuuri rolled onto his back. After realizing that his head was on the opposite end from the pillows, he turned around and flopped next to Wolfram whose heavy head was already resting on one of them.

“You alright?”

“Uh-huh,” Wolfram hummed. His glassy eyes opened to give Yuuri a bleary look. “It’s fine.” He shifted, snuggling to Yuuri’s side. Then he raised his head. “If it ever came to an end…” Wolfram muttered, his gaze becoming clearer. “Promise me that we will just go our separate ways before we start hating each other; I’d never, ever want to hate you.”

Yuuri watched the emerald eyes for a moment, then nodded. He lifted his head to kiss Wolfram. “I promise.”

XXXXX

A circle of fire formed in one of the yards of a group of identical houses aligned along the road. Wolfram stepped out of it and it quickly vanished, leaving no traces of ever having been there. The blond, after looking around for curious neighbors, started walking towards the door of his and Yuuri’s house. He took the keys from his pockets and unlocked the door. After entering a short corridor, decorated with bluish wallpaper, he left the key in the door and continued towards the kitchen. He plugged the fridge in and put a bag that he had brought with him into it. 

Yuuri had caught the flu and, afraid of infecting the Mazoku and Human populations of Mearan, decided to stay on Earth. Wolfram agreed to that without argument, as he thought it a very sensible decision: the plagues that sometimes shook Shin Makoku and wiped out entire cities and villages often corresponded with people coming from other continents or planets.

Yuuri had already been staying at his parents for three days. It had nearly been three weeks in Shin Makoku, and missing his husband, Wolfram had decided to visit him. Wolfram could imagine that right now Yuuri was being pampered with chicken bullion, fruit and juice all day long. No matter how he tried, Wolfram had a very clear idea that he could never replace someone’s mother, especially if she was able to cook like Yuuri’s mother.

Wolfram went to look around in the house. Things were in the places he remembered putting them. The dust was cleaned, the only pot plant that they had (it was, in fact, a cactus) – watered. Once a month, Yuuri’s mother would come and clean and check for disasters that might include leaking pipes and burglary. She also was the one who paid the bills when they were absent, which was nearly the entire time. 

Wolfram climbed down from upstairs where he had checked the study and the bedroom. He went outside, to the garage where his bike and Yuuri’s car were. The old bike started up smoothly and there was enough petrol for the trip to and from Ransui. Content, Wolfram killed the engine and came back into the kitchen to take the mushrooms from the bag that he had put into the fridge. It was the beginning of December on Earth while on Mearan it was still an early autumn, and Yuuri loved fried potatoes with mushrooms.

After finding a rucksack, Wolfram stored the mushrooms inside then hefted it onto his back. He locked the house again, pushed his bike outside the gate, put his helmet on and climbed on it. He started up the engine and drove off in the direction of Ransui where Yuuri’s parents lived.

It took Wolfram about fifteen minutes to reach the suburbs, then he slowed down to the maximum allowed speed. It was peak rush hour and after maneuvering around the jammed cars for another half an hour, he finally reached his destination. He pulled over near the garage where he could see his father-in-law’s car, who had already returned from work. Shortly, Wolfram wondered how Shoma explained his slowly aging body to his colleagues and superiors. Then he remembered Yuuri mentioning something about his father changing his workplace. Deciding that this problem would be solved without him, Wolfram climbed off the bike and, with his helmed under his arm, walked over to the door to ring the bell.

Shoma was the one to open the door. He grinned. “Hello. So Yuuri was right to say that he had heard your bike. C’mon in!”

“Good day,” Wolfram nodded, stepping in. Once inside, he slid his rucksack off his back and put it onto the floor in the corridor then started taking his shoes off. “So how is he?” He slipped his jacket off and hung it on the hook at the door.

“All snotty. Coughs and sneezes a lot. The usual.” Shoma turned to look, alerted by the soft steps that echoed from the other side of the corridor. It was warm in the house, but his son was in his sweatpants and a thick flannel shirt. His hair was a mess, indicating that his head had just been resting on a pillow. Yuuri also had a plaid over his shoulders which made him look like a varicolored mummy.

“Hey, Wolfram,” Yuuri greeted his husband in a hoarse voice. “Didn’t I tell you not to visit me?”

Wolfram laughed. “Hardly walking and still reprimanding me… Go back to sleep.” He raised his rucksack from the floor and handed it out for his father-in-law. “I brought some mushrooms. Miko is good at cooking them.”

Taking the bag, Shoma chuckled at his son’s disgruntled face. Turning back into the house, Yuuri’s back disappeared back down the corridor he appeared from. 

“My wife has gone to buy something for dinner,” Shoma said. “She should be back in an hour or two. With half of the store in her bags.”

“Ah.”

Wolfram followed his father-in-law through the living room where Yuuri had seated himself onto the couch. Once in the kitchen, Shoma lowered the bag onto the kitchen table then filled the kettle. “Yuuri, do you want some tea?” he called out.

“Yeah, thanks.” 

Shoma saw how Wolfram looked around in the kitchen, then his eyes went towards the other part of the joint room. “Go to him. I’ll take care of those mushrooms and the tea. He is very grumpy as of late.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Yuuri protested. “I’m just ill.”

Wolfram nodded and headed towards the couch where Yuuri had bundled himself up.

“You look good,” Yuuri said.

“And you look like hell,” Wolfram answered, leaning in to place a quick kiss on Yuuri’s temple.

“Don’t kiss me, moron,” Yuuri pushed him away. “Do you want to catch it?”

“If it were that contagious, I’d have gotten it long ago.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Yuuri muttered, sighing. Was Wolfram too stupid to understand that he might be endangering his life by exposing himself to possibly new microbes? Missing each other and stuff was fine and sweet, but that was not worth dying over.

Sighing, Yuuri stretched out, letting Wolfram sit down on the corner of the couch, near his head.

“Give me that pack of tissues,” Yuuri pointed at the table. “Ah, it’s hell, real hell,” Yuuri groaned, after having blown his nose for about three minutes. They turned at the sound of the outside door opening in the corridor. Yuuri tossed the used tissue into the bin that had been readied by Wolfram in advance. “I’m not getting any better.”

“Oh, you men,” Miko’s voice wafted, “so brave and undefeatable, but you always think you’re on the verge of dying as soon as you catch the flu. Oh hello, Wolfram, dear!” she greeted enthusiastically after entering the kitchen-living room. She was energetically dragging at least five bags, and Wolfram jumped off the couch to help her.

“Damn, mom, what the hell did you buy? -An entire cow?”

“Oh, just this and that. There was beef on discount and then I found salmon. I also thought that this saddle of mutton looked very good and…”

Yuuri’s ears closed to his mother’s quick prattle. If nobody stopped her, she could go on and on about the bargains; her interests never changed. “Wolfram brought some fresh mushrooms,” he said. “Could you please fry some potatoes with them?”

“Sure thing, dear!” Miko nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll help peel potatoes,” Wolfram offered.

“Oh, sweetheart, my dear will do that,” Miko said, patting her husband on his back. “You two have probably missed each other.”

“I’d say he is missing his pillow more than me,” Wolfram said, pointing at Yuuri who was close to nodding off on the mauve couch. “I’ll just bring him his tea, and let’s leave him to rest. I’ll help you with the food.”

Wolfram and Shoma undertook the task of peeling potatoes while Miko set a pot of water to boil and now was storing her newly bought food in the fridge and cupboards. She was done right when the water started boiling and she poured the prepared mushrooms into the pot. Then she went to wash the peeled potatoes and started to slice them. The three of them were done in ten minutes and Miko put a frying pan onto the stove, next to the boiling pot with mushrooms.

Seeing that the mindless labor was done and all what was left now was to actually make it taste nice, Wolfram left the kitchen and went to his husband who had been sleeping all this time. The empty mug stood on the table next to a few wrappings with pills. Wolfram stood watching Yuuri then decided not to wake him. He took the empty mug and carried it back into the kitchen, then returned and sat down at a small wooden table next to where Yuuri slept. In fact, Wolfram doubted Yuuri wanted to eat at all, and even if he did, he would probably not taste much.

“Shori said that he was going to visit Yuuri today.”

Wolfram raised his head to look at his father-in-law. “Really? It has been quite some time since I last saw him.”

“He seems to have gotten himself a new girlfriend. Women take much of one’s time, you know,” Shoma sighed. “When Miko and I…”

“Ho-ho-ho, dear, I don’t think that Wolfram is interested in that,” Miko giggled.

Wolfram blinked at her back while she was busying herself with preparing the salad. Actually, he was neither interested nor disinterested, instead, he found himself disturbed and unbalanced – the woman was nearly 64 years old, her husband meanwhile looked to be in his thirties. 

Did they still have sex?

The thought was quite sudden, and, surprised at himself, Wolfram blinked at Miko’s back again. Well, of course they did, he decided, even though, he had to fight the urge to turn his head and look at his father-in-law. But…how long was it going to…? She might live to be up to a hundred. As cold as the thought might be, at best, she would just die. A startling picture of Shoma taking care of an old wizened up granny in her bed, feeding her and changing diapers suddenly made Wolfram’s stomach churn.

Was this going to happed to him and Yuuri?

Shoma looked at Wolfram who abruptly stood up. The blond excused himself and moved quickly to the bathroom. 

Wolfram splashed his face with some water then took a look at himself in the mirror. He already looked nearly ten years younger than Yuuri. Sighing, Wolfram sat down on the edge of the tub. He had not given this much thought; with his lifespan of five hundred and Yuuri up to two hundred fifty or so, it had never seemed realistic that they would stay together for such a long time. It was just impossible. People got tired and bored with each other in less than a year, in less than a month, in less than a week. 

The two of them had spent a long time together and they still loved each other, but in comparison to their lifespan…those were a mere twenty-five years of their life. At any given moment it might just end. He might fall in love with someone else, Yuuri might suddenly fall in love with someone else. Wolfram had always thought that it might end that way. Now seeing Yuuri’s parents… Did Yuuri believe that they would stay together forever, until one of them died, just like his parents? Was Yuuri that naive, or was it him who was not in love enough with Yuuri, didn't have faith enough?

Wolfram ruffled through his hair. The thought suddenly made him feel guilty about not believing in eternal love and happy endings. He scratched his head. Yuuri was more of an optimist than he was. But, certainly, Yuuri had the same thoughts as him, the recent conversation showed that; the two of them were grown men – there was no space for soap bubbles.

And how was Shoma able to bear seeing his wife aging four times as fast as he was? How did Yuuri feel when he was around his parents? Was this why he so rarely visited them?

“Crap.”

Rubbing his forehead, Wolfram stood up. Useless, these thoughts were useless, because, in the end, they solved nothing – the flow of time was inexorable and undefeatable.

“How is Lakarde doing?” Miko asked after Wolfram had climbed downstairs and re-entered the kitchen-living room.

Wolfram flinched. Lakarde was another reason he sometimes felt guilty – the constant proof of his own stubbornness, betrayal and disregard of Yuuri’s feelings. The way Lakarde had been born… children should not be born like that. Although… Lakarde was not an unwanted child. He had wanted and did love Lakarde, and that also made him feel guilty and torn.

“He’s fine,” Wolfram said, taking a seat next to his father-in-law at a same small wooden table at the junction of the kitchen and the living room. “Although, he seemed somewhat upset that I did not bring him with me.”

“I’m sure that it was not “somewhat”.”

Wolfram looked across the table to the other side of the living-room where Yuuri was now awake and shifted on the couch. He sat up and reached out for the tissues on the glass table. He started blowing his nose.

“Well, I can’t take him with me everywhere I go.”

Yuuri sighed. “I know that. It’s that he… Never mind,” he waved it off, not finishing the thought. “He just needs to slap someone or be slapped on his left cheek. That entire gloomy atmosphere around him would dissipate at once. At least, it worked very refreshingly on my life.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. For some reason, Yuuri was very fond of that ancient misunderstanding and did not ever miss a chance to bring it up and tease him about it, even though it was Yuuri himself who had slapped him.

“Feeling any better?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I think it will last another four days or so. As usual.”

Wolfram stood up. “I’ll make you some tea again; you need liquids.”

“Food is going to be done in a few minutes,” Miko announced.

Yuuri sighed. Even if he loved the dish, he did not feel hungry.

“You’ll eat. At least a bit,” Wolfram said, after catching a glimpse of Yuuri’s unwilling face.

Resigned, Yuuri unwrapped himself from the plaid and started tapping off in the direction of the toilet. “Two moms at once can kill one for sure,” he muttered under his breath.

Shori arrived when the rest of the family had nearly finished eating. Miko quickly produced another plate and the eldest son sat down with them at the table.

“Will you stay here or go back to Shin Makoku?” Shori asked Wolfram after they had finished eating and now were drinking their tea. Yuuri was nodding off again.

“Initially, I intended to stay for a few days, but now I see that all he needs is rest,” Wolfram answered, blowing on his hot tea. “I’ll just drive back to our house and go back to Shin Makoku.”

“I can open a portal for you,” Shori offered.

“There’s no need for that – I like riding my motorcycle. I don't get to very often.”

Shori chuckled. “So I heard.”

It was about nine in the evening when Wolfram headed back. The streets were almost empty and he got back faster than the trip out took. He pushed his bike into the garage, kicked down the stand and took his helmet and gloves off. He closed the garage door and started locking it, but as did, he heard something behind him. But before he could turn around something dark swept past his eyes and he felt a piece of cloth press to his mouth and nose. He only managed a gasp, his hands flailed around uselessly, and then everything went dark.

XXXXX

“What is he doing here?!”

The shrill voice almost exploded Wolfram’s brain and his eyes flew open. Nauseated, he clutched at his pounding head.

“You… You!” a low hiss echoed again. “I can’t believe this, you bastard! Why?! Why the hell is he here?! You promised me! I want no part in this, you hear me!?”

The voice was familiar. With that, the urgent need to orient himself was born in the back of Wolfram’s throbbing head. He tried to take in his surroundings, but everything was blurry. The dizziness, nausea and suddenness of it all robbed him of any coherent thought. Disbelief, a sense of danger and the necessity to act, all clamored for attention in his dazed brain. His ears seemed as if they were covered with something like cotton, sounds were off and hollow and his pulsing temples threatened to explode at any given moment. Through the excruciating pain and bewildering mist that had wrapped itself around his perceptions, he could heard vague sounds. He could not even tell from which part of the room the noise was coming from or whether it was in the room at all.

“What the fuck did you do to him?!”

“Calm down; those are just Esoteric Stones. They won’t harm him.”

“No shit?! It seems to me that he’s already been harmed enough! Why does he look as if he were in pain?!”

“Will you calm down? Nothing will happen to him. Hey, maybe you’d want to have fun while he’s…”

A loud sound of something shattering accompanied the words.

“I’ve just bought that vase for you!”

“I won’t take a part in this! Release him right now!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You…bastard…”

“Wait…”

“You sonovabitch! You promised me!”

“And I’ll keep my promise! –No harm will come to him!”

“Tell me how this is not harm!? I really hate you. I hate you so much I wanna gouge your eyes out!” 

“Will you…”

“You lied to me! Damn it, you lied to me!” 

The voices started fading and silence came. After some time, through the haze, Wolfram felt himself being moved. He had no idea how much time had passed. He wasn’t sure if he had slept or simply passed out. 

Something was pressed to Wolfram’s lips. Water. His body reacted on his own, his lips falling open greedily. But then it was gone. He felt wetness, the water splash on his chest, and a loud voice shook the air, making his head throb terribly.

“What do you think you are doing?! Don’t go near him!”

“You brought him here, so make sure he is taken care of, you bastard!”

“He’ll snap your head off as soon as he comes round, you fool!”

There was a loud sound of something smashing.

“Don’t throw things at me! Aren’t you being too much!? You don’t owe him a damn thing! He was the one to stuff your head with silly ideas!”

There was a loud but angry laugh heard then. “Oh, you know it wasn’t like that. Hey! Keep your hands off me! Let go!”

“You are not to approach him!”

TBC


	16. Part 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 43. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 10.
> 
> A/N 2: Faraya is the former ruler of Ekara (the planet of fire element) who went into hiding after having confronted Yuuri and lost. Faraya looks over forty years old and has the same dark looks like all local people on Ekara: dark-shaded skin, black hair and eyes. The man’s face has regular features, some of the black hair covers his high forehead and is cut in a similar manner as Wolfram’s only a little shorter. His quite full lips are usually pressed together in a content smile. As most men on Ekara, Faraya doesn’t wear moustache either. Besides having a big-boned build, the man is built heavily, his body quite muscular. Faraya has big eyes whose dark penetrating look, while “pleasantly staying on Ekara”, Wolfram found disturbingly alluring.
> 
> A/N 3: Amae Sederu was born on Ekara and is Faraya’s concubine. His father was originally from Shin Makoku and used to be a healer. Amae’s entire family was killed by Faraya’s soldiers during one of the raids on the hostile villages. Amae has been living in closed spaces since he was eleven years old. He used to be in a brothel and changed many hands until Faraya took hold of him. Amae is a half-blood and a good wielder of the water element. He also practices healing.  
>  Amae is in his early twenties. He has got long straight black hair and blue eyes. He is slender but tall with an attractive body. He is not malignant by nature but can be cunning and vindictive once crossed. Amae is not strong physically but has a very sharp tongue and is not afraid to use it.  
>  Until Wolfram helped Amae to escape from Faraya’s palace, Amae used to control the rest of the concubines, but once out of his usual environment it appeared that he does not know how to preserve himself. While Amae was traveling together with Wolfram and Kyota back to the camp, he caught Kyota’s eye. He and Kyota had sex but the relationship did not go very well, Amae leaving the other party hurt and enraged after agreeing to escape from Shin Makoku together with Faraya. Since then nobody has heard anything about them both.
> 
> A/N 4: Arachi Diuman is an elite guard in Blood Pledge Castle, responsible for guarding the king. He came to Shin Makoku from The Kingdom of Kojona as a sign of trust between the two kingdoms. After his contract ended, he was made an offer to stay in Blood Pledge Castle further which he gladly accepted.  
>  Arachi is a half-blood and wields the wind element. Arachi is a brunette, of middle-build and has mismatched eyes - the right one is hazel while his left is dark brown. He usually wears his red uniform that all elite guards wear.  
>  Arachi was also the one to travel to Ekara with Wolfram, Kyota and Asami. On Ekara, most time he spent together with Kyota looking for Wolfram. He has also met Amae there.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 16

It was late evening already, and Yuuri was resting in the royal chambers after another hard and nerve wracking day which had dragged into infinity. The time had been wasted. There was no news about Wolfram. The men that he had sent out to search and ask questions came back empty-handed. A feeling of helplessness was starting to take hold and made him panicky.

No one knew when and where Wolfram had disappeared, since he was last seen on Earth intending to go back to Shin Makoku. Had something happened on Earth or when he was back in Shin Makoku? It had taken nearly a week before anyone realized that he was missing. Yuuri was sure that he had gone back to Shin Makoku, while everyone in Shin Makoku was certain that he was staying with his husband on Earth.

Yuuri wasn’t able to sit in one place, constantly pacing back and forth in the room, nearly overcome with worry over his husband. People around him were also tense, afraid of how the events would affect the kingdom. The news about Wolfram hadn’t been spread yet, but the information had already started to leak.

With his father missing, Lakarde had become completely unsociable, snapping at everyone and glaring daggers at Yuuri every time their eyes met. The child seemed to be sure that it was the king’s fault that Wolfram was missing. Lakarde had not accused him of that to his face, but the young man was close to terrorizing the captains of the search-parties that the king had installed. The men had already been forced to report every step they took to Lakarde. Lakarde was ordering them around, and something in Yuuri lacked the strength to put the child in his place. 

Yuuri jerked at the knock on the door that echoed loudly in the room. “What is it?” he snapped. The door opened to reveal one of the royal guards. The man stepped inside the room.

“Your Majesty,” the guard continued as the king gave his permission to speak. “There is a man waiting outside the gate. He is requesting an audience with Your Majesty.”

Confused, Yuuri looked at him. “What does he want at this hour?”

“He didn’t say,” the guard said. “But,” he added as the king started frowning and was obviously going to admonish him for coming to him with such a trivial matter, “he had this.” He dug into his pocket then pulled out a golden bracelet. “It seems to belong to Prince Consort…” He started as the king suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the bracelet out of his hand.

“Bring him here immediately!” the king commanded after examining the bracelet more closely.

Impatient, Yuuri marched around and around in the room while waiting for the guard to return. From time to time he would rub the shiny piece of gold with his fingers. It really was Wolfram’s, with the small dent near his royal sign that appeared after Wolfram had been thrown from his horse. Whoever had the bracelet knew Wolfram’s location. All signs showed that he had been kidnapped and now they had come to negotiate.

Yuuri’s head whipped around at the knock on the door. With his permission it opened and about ten men flocked into the room. When that mingle-mangle of his elite guards and castle guards spread wider, Yuuri was finally able to see what was at the center of it. Probably his facial expression said everything that he thought of this meeting, because from the circle of castle and body guards Amae Sederu gave him a sad smile.

“Your Majesty,” Amae bowed. “I’d say that I’m happy to meet you again, but it isn’t like that.”

“The same here,” Yuuri muttered. He raised the bracelet. “Where is Wolfram?”

The younger male shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

“You are in no position to refuse,” Yuuri said.

There was a short gasp, and the guards gasped as Amae slumped to his knees. Some of them stepped back, others came forward to see what was wrong with the man. One or two tried to raise him back to his feet, but the dark-haired male pushed their hands away.

To lose contact with his water element was never pleasant and to be cut off from it so instantly and so deliberately shockingly was heart-stopping. Trying to even out his breathing and fight the nausea, Amae raised his head. Wolfram’s husband was pissed. The man’s dark, usually calm and friendly eyes now were scintillating with fury, his entire posture screaming of a barely suppressed desire to crush him. 

He was breathtaking.

Amae gave Yuuri a wide, albeit pained, grin. “I always thought that Wolfram must be good at choosing his men. I see I was right.” Ignoring how the comment made Yuuri’s face contort, Amae shifted his weight on his hands and tried to stand up, then gave up and just stayed kneeling. 

“Cut the crap, Amae!” Yuuri hissed. “Where is Wolfram?”

“I won’t tell you,” Amae answered plainly. “He has been taken by Faraya.”

“I figured that out already!” Yuuri growled. “What is your objective?”

“My objective is to make matters more equal. Faraya has Wolfram, so you will have me. If you handle this well, there shouldn’t be any casualties.”

Stunned, Yuuri stared at the concubine. 

“I owe Wolfram a big one,” Amae said, “but this is all I can do.”

Yuuri stared at him for a few more minutes then pushed the bracelet into his pocket. “So you ran away,” he summarized finally. The other man nodded. “Are you sure your life is worth Wolfram’s?” Yuuri asked. The shadow that he saw pass Amae’s face did not assure him at all.

“I can only hope,” the younger male answered.

“You’ll be under watch the entire time,” Yuuri informed him then. “And be sure that if you do something suspicious like using Faraya’s element or something similar, I won’t wait for Faraya to contact me…”

Amae nodded, accepting the conditions. He had known how it would turn out beforehand. Amae tried to stand up again. He swayed dangerously, but managed to stay on his feet. 

“I’ll tell you more about your husband,” Amae muttered, brushing his hand over his forehead then covering his mouth with it, “but I badly need to visit the bathroom first.”

XXXXX

Amae was drowsing when Yuuri entered the room, his dark eyes quickly checking on the presence of a pair of guards standing near the doorway. After the bathroom, the guards had been ordered to take Amae to the room he had been given to stay in. Yuuri had not expected Amae would take so long. After losing his patience and starting to think that the man was trying to manipulate him, Yuuri decided to see Amae himself.

But now, seeing the concubine lying listlessly in the bed, his face as white as a sheet and his eyes bleary, Yuuri had lost some of his anger. He had not expected that the loss of his element would affect the man so badly. He did not remember anyone reacting so strongly. 

“Wolfram isn’t okay,” Amae muttered, rousing himself after noticing Yuuri’s entrance. “As I was forbidden to get near him, I didn’t see much. Faraya is using Esoteric Stones to keep Wolfram inactive and it seems that they are affecting him rather badly, keeping him unconscious or making him delirious and giving him painful headaches.” Yuuri looked aghast after his words and Amae found that looking at Yuuri’s face caused him to feel a good amount of malevolence. The weird combination of his own worry over Wolfram and glee over Yuuri’s anxiety perturbed him suddenly. 

“I’m afraid that the stones might leave some permanent damage,” Amae spilled, rubbing at his eyes. “I tried to talk Faraya into lessening the amount but…!” He shifted in the bed, sitting up suddenly, making the bodyguards tense. “But the fucker never listens! I wanted to…but he never lets me!” 

Sensing something wrong in the other man’s aura, Yuuri watched Amae closely as the smaller man was ruffling though his hair frantically. Only then did he realize that the concubine was nearing hysterics.

“Call Gisela,” he ordered one of his bodyguards. “Tell her to bring some quickly working sedative.” Yuuri turned back to the concubine and realized that he was not sure what to do. “Where is Wolfram, Amae?” he asked again. That had been probably the worst thing to do because Amae simply exploded.

“I said I wouldn’t tell you!” Amae yelled at him. “I can’t interfere! I don’t fucking want to interfere at all!” He jumped off the bed. “Wolfram… I can’t… Faraya…” His blue eyes blazed then. “You idiots can kill each other off for all I care! Don’t fucking touch me!” he screamed at one of the bodyguards who tried to prevent him from leaving the room. “Get your hands off me!”

Watching his king’s reactions, the guard could see that he wasn’t allowed to treat Amae as a real threat or inflict any serious damage. Instead of using violent force to prevent the concubine from leaving the room and to avoid Amae’s nails and flailing hands, he simply trussed Amae’s right hand up behind his back and pushed the wailing man back to the bed. He kept the concubine there until Gisela came. But by the time she arrived, Amae had almost calmed down on his own. Now he was just sitting on the bed, fidgeting nervously with his hands. He was still made to drink a cup of some herbal tea Gisela had rustled up then was put to bed. Yuuri left four guards at Amae’s door and also went to try to get some sleep.

XXXXX

Amae was still sleeping when Arachi and his partner entered the concubine’s room to change watch. As Arachi was one of those who had known Amae from before, the king had spoken to him seeking information about the concubine, but all Arachi could do was to confirm the facts that Wolfram had related to Yuuri earlier. 

The concubine was sleeping soundly, most likely whatever they had given him still muffling his senses. The make up was all gone from Amae’s face and his skin almost matched the sheets he was sleeping on. Arachi had heard that the concubine had had hysterics the day before. The king had also asked him about this. Arachi had confirmed he knew from long ago in a camp just before the collision with Faraya’s army. He had not seen it with his own eyes, but Amae’s shouts that he had heard echoing had told him enough. Amae tended to break down if there were too many things piled on his shoulders.

Despite the unhealthy paleness, Amae was stunning. To anyone from Mearan he looked exotic with his long straight black hair. Amae didn’t seem to have aged from the last time Arachi saw him. The same young face with regular features, a small pointy nose, full lips, dark eyelashes resting against the pale cheeks and thin brows that were expressively curved to highlight now closed eyes which - he knew from memory - were intently blue.

Silently, Arachi and his partner changed stations with the two other guards and drew up at the door. Informing them that the concubine caused no trouble and had done nothing except for sleeping, the previous guards left. As Amae didn’t seem to be planning on waking up any time soon, Arachi readied himself for a boring morning.

“A hell of a beauty, isn’t he?”

Arachi turned to his partner whose eyes were taking in the concubine’s face with a great deal of admiration. “Don’t even think about it, Kedash,” Arachi chuckled. “He would cost you your entire life savings.”

Kedash turned to Arachi, grinning. “Hey, a man can dream, can’t he?” 

Arachi shrugged at that.

The two of them spent half an hour leaning against the cold wall, then Arachi pulled a chair from the table in the room and sat down. Kedash gave him a look but said nothing, remaining standing.

Another hour passed, then the elite guards’ attention went to the bed where the concubine stirred. The two of them started as Amae sat up abruptly. Wide-eyed, the concubine looked around then his gaze fell on the guards.

“Where…?” Frowning, Amae shook his head. He gave a second look at his surroundings, his face showing that he finally realized where he was. He didn’t look that good either. He turned back to the guards. “Ehh…Arachi, was it?”

Arachi nodded. “Yes, Arachi Diuman. I’m surprised you remember the name.”

“Mmm?” Amae’s still bleary eyes focused on him. “Five years isn’t that a long time.” He pushed the covers away and started climbing out of the bed. He yelped loudly as his feet didn’t hold him and he flopped down onto the carpet on all fours, hardly managing to catch himself before his face hit the floor.

Arachi hurried over to Amae to help him stand up. “The drugs haven’t worn off yet. They weren’t strong but your mixed blood must be the reason you are so shaky.” After it proved pointless to put Amae on his feet, the guard hefted Amae into his arms easily and laid him back into the bed.

“You know,” Amae pointed with his index finger at Arachi’s chest, “you shouldn’t touch people so familiarly, especially men who do not belong to you.”

Arachi rolled his eyes. “Want me to drop you back onto the carpet?”

Amae blinked up at the guard’s face. “Point taken.”

The elite guard sighed. He put the covers back onto the younger male, tucking him in. “How many years do you think have passed? I don’t know where you have been this entire time, but here, in Shin Makoku…” He trailed off then started again: “Let’s say that, from my point of view, we met twenty years ago. Shhh, lie calmly,” Arachi said, pushing Amae back into the bedding after he sat up suddenly.

Amae laughed suddenly, the harsh laughter echoing in the room. “And I was wondering why you looked older…” he muttered.

Arachi watched Amae intently for a few seconds waiting for any signs of hysterics but Amae stayed put in the bed. His eyes were closed and Arachi knew that the concubine realized that he had given himself away. There were only four worlds and all one had to do was to count the proportion between five and twenty years. Arachi turned to Kedash. 

“Go get His Majesty.”

Kedash nodded and left the room.

“Fuck it,” Amae sighed, opening his eyes after the door had closed. He looked up at Arachi then rubbed his forehead. He felt nauseated and wasn’t sure if it was because of the drugs or the situation. The fear he felt was choking him.

Arachi watched the concubine’s ashen face for a few seconds. “He had tucked you away from the rest of the world, didn’t he?” he asked then.

Amae looked at him but couldn’t hold the gaze and averted his eyes to the ceiling. He said nothing.

“Why did you go with him?”

After a long pause with no reply, Arachi wasn’t sure that Amae would answer.

“It was… When he called…” Amae muttered. “I wanted nothing else and… Crap,” he groaned, rubbing his face fervently. “I’m a selfish whore, Arachi, and whoever Faraya is, unlike the others, he never wanted for me to be someone else other than who I am...”

The elite guard leaned back in his chair. “I see you haven’t changed one bit. Amae, really, did you think you would be able to influence him?”

The topic was making him even more nauseated. He didn’t even want to think about it. Amae closed his eyes. “You think I went with him so that I could try to prevent something like this happening? You think too well of me.”

Arachi chuckled. True, even if Faraya loved Amae, he was not someone to listen to others’ opinions. “What do you think will happen now?” he asked.

Amae shrugged. “I… It’s the second time I betrayed him. I am not sure he will ever agree to...” He shook his head and fell silent. He looked at the door as it opened. Yuuri, followed by two guards, entered the room.

Arachi stood up to pay honor to his king.

“What happened?” Yuuri required.

“Your Majesty, it seems that for the concubine it’s only been five years, while here we had twenty pass,” Arachi informed him. 

Yuuri did the calculating in his head immediately. “Then it’s Aliran.” Yuuri frowned at Amae. “You two bastards got another ruled involved, didn’t you?” he turned to the guard when Amae remained silent. “Inform the Great Sage and send him to the ruler of Earth with the news.”

Arachi bowed. “Right away, Your Majesty.”

Yuuri cast a glance at Amae then, wordlessly, turned to go. The concubine looked like death itself. It was obvious that Amae hadn’t expected such a turn of events. He seemed to be nearing a nervous breakdown. Not that Yuuri cared.

Amae stared at the door that had closed behind the king. He started getting up. Kedash and another guard Yuuri left tensed, not sure what to expect.

“I want to go to the bathroom,” Amae said. He disentangled himself from the sheets and got to his feet. His legs were still wobbly, his head swimming. Walking appeared not to be a good idea. Amae stumbled, narrowly missing Kedash, but smashing headlong into the other guard, lost his balance completely and simply hung on the guard clasping his uniform lapels. Amae pressed his forehead to the wide-eyed guard’s chest while trying to keep it all down.

“Listen,” Amae rasped out, “either take me to the bathroom or I’ll just vomit on you right now and right here. No kidding.”

Giving Kedash a lost look, the elite guard hefted the concubine into his arms and turned to the door.

“Oh gods,” Amae groaned as after the sudden change in the position, his stomach couldn’t wait to get out of his throat. “Are all of you idiots here?”

Grimacing, Kedash opened the door, and his partner carried Amae outside. Moments later, in the bathroom, the two of them stood outside the cubicle while the sounds of vomiting echoed inside it. Half an hour later, Amae staggered out of the cubicle looking much better. 

“Alright,” he breathed while leaning heavily on the cubicle door, “get me some tea.”

The guards looked at each other, then Kedash motioned with his head towards the door for his partner who nodded, sighing. Amae tottered to the washbasin to rinse his mouth and wash himself.

Kedash shrunk back as the concubine started pulling the tunic over his head. As usual, Amae wore no trousers, pantaloons or leggings under his tunics. Amae tossed the tunic aside onto the bathroom cupboard leaving only his underwear on. The guard stared at the concubine’s backside as he leaned down to ransack through the cupboard. The concubine finally found a towel and a sponge. Amae wetted it, rubbed some soap into it and turned to the guard. Disbelieving, the guard watched the concubine push his underwear down, kick it off and start washing himself. 

“Be sure that he will demand you pay him for the show later,” Arachi said after entering the bathroom.

With his face all red and his trousers tight, Kedash turned to Arachi who motioned for him to follow him outside the bathroom. “C’mon, do you think he will take a jump through that window?” Arachi said while pointing at the tiny window; it was too high for anyone to escape through unscathed.

They left the younger male to wash himself, and Arachi knew that it was going to take quite a while. It was the only way Amae could have some time alone. Amae had many things to think about. Arachi was afraid that the concubine might go into hysterics again.

Nonetheless, an hour later, Arachi had to enter the bathroom as the concubine didn’t answer to his calls or orders to leave the bathroom. He found Amae sitting on the cupboard near the sink and leaning his back against the cold stony wall. The man had already redressed in his tunic, but was still shivering after the cool bath. Wordlessly, Arachi pulled the quivering concubine off the cupboard and, supporting the younger male, led him outside. Amae was frozen, but it didn’t seem that he had noticed, though.

“Do I need to get some soporifics for you?” Arachi asked the concubine on their way back to the room.

Amae gave him a bleary look then shrugged. He wasn’t sure about his body accepting something else after yesterday. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

After getting some hot tea into Amae, Arachi tucked him warmly into the bed. The concubine looked horrible and appeared to be feverish. It didn’t seem that Amae would be able to eat anything. About half an hour later, the shivering stopped, and Amae fell asleep.

When he woke up, hardly anything had changed: the guards were still standing in his room; the situation was still grim; he still felt sickish and feverish; he still didn’t know what to do. But after casting a glance out of the window he saw that it was evening already.

“Well, feeling any better?”

The bed-sheets rustled when Amae shifted to look at Arachi. “Not really,” he muttered, pressing his cheek to the spot on the pillow which hadn’t been warmed by his body yet. “Thanks, really thanks for…”

Arachi nodded, accepting the gratitude. In his memories Amae was always someone quick-witted and sly; but at the same time rather helpless as regards his fate. Some people were just less lucky than others. He didn’t think that the concubine had some plan hidden up his sleeve. The man’s current situation was in no way enviable, and keeping in mind that Amae came to Shin Makoku on his own, he felt obliged to do something at least for the concubine.

Amae turned away, slid deeper into the covers and started drifting off to sleep again. Faraya would notice his absence after a day or two. He wished he could just sleep through all of this. Or to wake up and see that all of it had only been a morbid dream.

“Do you want to eat or drink something?”

“No, thank you,” Amae muttered drowsily. “I’m just tired.”

Arachi watched the concubine’s slowly raising and falling side for a few seconds.

“Does Kyota know that you are here?” Arachi asked.

Amae actually stiffened then turned to stare at him with hooded but at the same time quite surprised eyes. He obviously didn’t think that the other male had anything to do with him anymore. “Kyota? Ehhh… I don’t know.” As Arachi was silent, he turned away and settled back to sleep.

“He was quite furious when you left.”

“I can imagine,” Amae muttered. He sighed into his pillow. “He really had some serious intentions towards me, hadn’t he?”

“Yes. I thought you were quite fitting for each other. It would have taken time, but you could have gotten everything right.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Arachi shrugged. Even if Amae thought that he had nothing to do with Kyota anymore, it was not that clear what Kyota’s thoughts were on this. Arachi leaned against the wall. He decided to drop the topic. “Have you met Lakarde yet?” 

“Hmm…? Who is he?” Amae asked, wondering.

“Wolfram’s kid.”

Amae’s eyes went wide. He lifted himself on his elbows to turn around and stare at Arachi. “Wolfram has a child?!”

Arachi chuckled in amusement. “Why are you so surprised? Twenty years is a long time.” He watched the concubine drop back into the bedding stiffly. “The boy and his father are very much alike, in several ways,” Arachi added. He wasn’t sure if he should say more about the youngster. Besides, Kedash was in the room too. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised that he hasn’t come to see you yet,” he said.

“But… What about the King and…?” Amae asked. It would have been normal for the king to have a concubine, but for Wolfram to…

Arachi shook his head, refusing to talk. “It’s a long story.” 

XXXXX

The king came to interrogate Amae the next morning. He put many questions to Amae to which the concubine didn’t give any answers. Yuuri started to consider restoring the Mazoku tradition of torture. He wondered about how Amae was able to travel to Mearan. He thought that Wolfram might be somewhere on Mearan. But with the concubine’s lips tightly shut, all he could do was guess.

Irritated to no end, Yuuri left the concubine’s room half an hour later. All he had managed to get out of Amae was that Wolfram was being taken care of. He slammed the door shut and froze as he saw Lakarde waiting on the other side of the door. The boy stared at him with an obvious demand in his eyes. 

“He didn’t say anything,” Yuuri said. 

“Let me talk to him,” Lakarde insisted. 

Knowing that the boy would only get frustrated and furious with the concubine, Yuuri shook his head. “It’s not a good idea.”

The outrage that suddenly flashed in the boy’s eyes was all-consuming. His mouth suddenly fell open, but then closed shut as he thought the better of it. Yuuri didn’t even need to hear it to know what the boy was thinking. He could feel for the boy, but it didn’t mean he was going to change his decision and let Lakarde do something stupid like attack Amae.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lakarde said through gritted teeth, then turned around on his heel and walked away.

“Don’t let Lakarde in. Inform the other guards,” Yuuri ordered the guards at the door.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

XXXXX

There was some commotion on the other side of the door. Amae roused slowly. He started and sat up in his bed as the door opened and Arachi rushed in.

“Dress. Faraya is here. He wants to see you.”

Amae’s breath got stuck in his throat. The room suddenly turned stuffy and the light coming from the windows was too bright.

“No.”

Stunned, Arachi stared at the concubine who had wrapped himself into the covers and fell back into the bed with his back turned.

“Amae, you misunderstood me. It’s not a request – it’s an order!”

As the younger male did not react, the elite guard leaned over to grab the covers. He peeled them off Amae, then dragged him off the bed unceremoniously.

“Watch your hands!” Amae yelled.

“Amae, I have my orders. If you resist me, I’ll deal with you in a very unpleasant way.”

Amae’s head snapped up. The guard hardly kept from stepping back before the burning gaze. He let go of Amae’s wrist. The Fire Element was pulsing hotly around Amae.

“Don’t touch me! I am not going to meet that fucker!”

Not sure what to do, Arachi cast a quick look towards the door. “Amae, if you don’t go, he will come here anyway,” he tried to reason with the hysterical concubine. Amae’s head snapped to the door. The man was shaking uncontrollably. It didn’t seem that Amae heard what was behind the words, though. 

“Amae…”

“No! No! Get the fuck out!”

Arachi walked to the door. He opened it to tell one of the guards to inform the king that Amae refused to see Faraya and was causing a fuss. He came back into the room. The concubine was standing in the middle of the room, just staring at him with eyes filled with panic and dread.

Yuuri, accompanied by two of his bodyguards, arrived a few minutes later. He cast a look at the panicky concubine and the tunic in Arachi’s hands. His patience was wearing thin. “Dress the damn bitch,” Yuuri snapped at the elite guard. “Can’t you even manage that?!”

“Right away, Your Majesty.”

Arachi grabbed Amae by his arm to hold him in place, but after trussing it behind Amae’s back, it was clear that he could not manage to do it alone. But then one of Yuuri’s bodyguards rushed to his aid and soon they had Amae dressed and seated on the bed. 

“Let go!”

Amae tried to kick Arachi while he was putting his sandals on his feet, but then a swish of air knocked him over onto his back. Gasping for breath, Amae stayed lying on the bed until Arachi was done with his footwear and grabbed him by his arm to raise him. Dragging Amae appeared to be not an option as the concubine dug his feet into the carpet and grabbed the headboard with his right hand.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” yelled Yuuri, appearing next to Amae and yanking his hand off the headboard. He jerked Amae towards the door. 

The bodyguards seemed somewhat lost as their king, with Arachi on the other side, continued dragging the concubine down the corridor. Amae was still struggling violently, but did not raise his voice anymore, the terror probably even too great to express it with a voice.

Finally, Yuuri threw a door open and yanked the concubine into the huge hall that was commonly used for solemn celebrations or gatherings. Today there were about twenty people present. Yuuri and his elite guards, Faraya and his men. The ruler of Ekara was sitting on one of the chairs, near Yuuri’s throne.

“Here, is this what you’ve been looking for?!” Yuuri hissed, grabbing Amae by his hair with his other hand and turning his face to where Faraya stood, having gotten up from the chair at the group’s entrance.

Amae’s wide eyes stared at Faraya while Faraya watched him in return.

“Return my husband!” Yuuri demanded, shaking Amae, his fingers pulling painfully at the long hair. “Return him, or I’ll have fun with yours!”

“I’m not…” Amae yelped, not finishing as Yuuri’s heavy hand flew across his face.

“Shut your trap!”

The impact tossed Amae down onto the carpet. His nose started bleeding.

Watching Amae’s wide blue eyes, while he was trying to stop the bleeding, Faraya could see the desperation in them. Yuuri, usually a calm and composed man had turned into a beast and Amae was afraid that this meeting might end not as he had planned. 

Stupid whore. Damn him.

Amae winced in pain as Yuuri grabbed him by his hair again and pulled, forcing him to stand up.

“Where is Wolfram?” Yuuri demanded again, yanking Amae’s head back, the concubine’s hands reaching to Yuuri’s that was holding his hair, to try and pry his fingers open. Yuuri did not even notice, not feeling the sharp nails digging into his skin. All that mattered now was that Yuuri knew he had won as soon as he saw anger reflect in the other ruler’s eyes. Now he was ready to tear Amae apart, limb by limb, right here in front of Faraya if he still opposed the Mazoku king. 

Yuuri raised his hand again. Faraya’s eyes narrowed.

“Alright,” Faraya spat. “Let’s make a trade.”

Yuuri lowered his hand. “Bring Wolfram here!” he hissed.

A circle of fire engulfed Faraya and he blinked out of sight. Seconds, minutes, and then an hour passed… and, torn, Yuuri started thinking that he might have made a huge mistake. He threw a vicious look at Amae, who now was sitting on one of the chairs surrounded by the guards. If the concubine’s idiotic plan failed… Yuuri had no idea what he would do to the concubine, but it would be nothing pleasant. Just to make sure that justice was served. As they waited, with nerves tense, Yuuri was joined by Gunter, then by Gwendal, and ultimately, Shori arrived.

Finally, nearly two hours after he had disappeared, Faraya appeared exactly in the same place. But this time he was not alone. He had brought Wolfram and one other man with him. Wolfram was unconscious. He was being held by one of the guards, bridal style. His blond head lolled on the man’s shoulder and one arm trailed nervelessly down. Yuuri resisted the urge to call out. He motioned for his bodyguards to bring Amae to him. 

Wolfram was being carried while Amae – with a royal guard at his side – walked to the middle of the hall and passed each other. The man carrying Wolfram stopped in front of the guard Yuuri had sent forward. The royal guard left Amae standing next to Faraya and turned back. The man who had brought Wolfram passed the unconscious prince off, and then did the same.

The two men and the new one who had just come with Faraya, and who had remained standing at Faraya’s side during the exchange, made Yuuri very cautious. He was sure Faraya did not intend to let this end with just this. Yuuri himself had no wish to end it like this either. Yuuri had his brother, Gwendal, Gunter and other men at his side, but if one of the men at Faraya’s side was the one who he presumed he was, this was going to turn out messy. 

Squashing down the screaming desire to hurry to his husband, Yuuri stayed still, letting his suite of guards take care of Wolfram. 

Faraya grinned at Yuuri. “Now that this formality is out of the way…” 

Yuuri’s head snapped to the side where Shori had blocked a huge fireball that had just materialized in midair. A gale force blast of air sent it back towards Faraya, slamming it into the opposite wall, blasting it outwards. The castle shook with the enormous noise, dust and screams filling the air. 

Yuuri felt the dimension shift and knew that Shori was taking all of them away from the castle before it was destroyed. In a second they appeared in a green field, near a lake that Shori had visited a few times with his brother. The dust that had traveled with them started settling, and Yuuri saw that nearly everyone who had been in the hall, had been transferred here. With a quick scan, Yuuri was reassured to see that his husband was not here.

The short pause in the fight that had been created by the sudden change of their surroundings ended with one of Faraya’s men splitting the ground. The new born abyss that tore towards Yuuri and his men made Yuuri’s hair stand on end. He would have probably lost many of them if not for Gwendal, reacting at the last second, cracking the ground in parallel with them and diverting the direction of the growing abyss aside. The new crack razed the lake and the water started rushing into it.

Yuuri’s water dragons rose from the lake and the newly formed ditch and flew towards the enemy. Yuuri could only gap in disbelief as his dragons were slowed by the same man who had just opened the abyss. The man had summoned a huge vortex. 

A couple of other men with Faraya tried to do use the opportunity and launched a few fireballs and lightning bolts. That did not cause much trouble as Shori neutralized the bolts, and Gwendal instantly formed a shield from the ground to escape the gusts of wind. Just before they were surrounded by Gwendal’s growing fortress of soil, Gunter’s own lightning bolt struck one of the enemies to death.

The gust of wind that Shori summoned to repay Faraya for his earlier attack tore through the air with maddening power but was suddenly stopped with a horrendous noise as it smashed into an invisible barrier. It had been created by the same man who had already used the earth and water elements. There was no doubt left as to who he was.

But it was a too big strain to hold back Yuuri’s dragons and create such a powerful shield at the same time and the vortex that had been keeping the dragons away suddenly swayed, lessened and the dragons plunged through, towards the enemy. They connected with Faraya’s suddenly raised wall of fire and the deafening wham echoed in the mutilated valley, white vapor spreading thickly, the people now being hardly able to see anything.

“You know, Nuuos, Faraya tricked you. These men have no idea where Eola is.”

The ruler of Aliran turned around to look at the Great Sage who had somehow appeared next to him, amidst the vapor.

“You? What are you doing here?”

“You know, I also wonder about that at times,” Murata huffed scratching his short-haired head. “I prefer not to interfere when the rulers fight, but… Never mind that. Did you hear what I just said about Faraya tricking you?”

Nuuos looked lost. “But he said Yuuri kidnapped her. He would not lie.”

Murata rubbed his forehead; he always found it difficult to deal with fallow Nuuos. “He lied. Very likely Faraya is the one who is keeping Eola imprisoned. Just as Faraya did with Yuuri’s husband.”

“But Yuuri was first to kidnap Amae!”

“Faraya kidnapped Wolfram. Amae surrendered to Yuuri of his own will. Amae and Wolfram are friends, so Amae wanted to make the matters more equal.”

The vapor around them had become thin, and Murata hoped that Nuuos would digest the new information quickly. For now though, Nuuos was just staring at Murata with his dirty green eyes.

“Nuuos! Clear away the damn mist!” 

Nuuos’ head turned to the side where Faraya’s voice echoed from out of the thinning steam. His eyes suddenly caught with a mad flame. Behind him, Murata grinned and flickered out of view.

The whish of air that cleared off the vapor revealed a scene that stunned Yuuri: Faraya was fighting his companion. His other man was already lying on the ground, rendered unconscious. The ground under Faraya’s feet suddenly shook and separated and he fell into a suddenly opened hole. Water poured into it, but it started hissing and evaporating as it was met by a flaming inferno. A fireball flew past Nuuos, but then Yuuri’s dragons flowed into the newly created crater with Faraya, gradually overpowering his flames and casting huge amounts of steam into the air. As it was nearly impossible to see anything, Shori created a barrier around Faraya, making sure the man did not escape.

Faraya alone could not fight off the other three rulers. After trying to open the gate, he realized that he was not allowed to – at least two of the men had him trapped. Seeing that it was no use, Faraya stopped resisting. Slowly, the vapor faded, leaving Faraya buoying up in the middle of the crater, surrounded by the invisible barrier.

TBC


	17. Part 17

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 17

It took the rest of the day for Yuuri to take care of everything: Faraya was under watch and had been locked up in one of the rooms in the castle, and Nuuos had a chance to explain himself and express his concerns about Eola. Eola herself had been found on Aliran, living with one of the rich courtiers. A situation that had carefully been explained to Nuuos, and then it took another hour to talk him out of killing that nobleman.

Yuuri brushed his hand over his forehead, trying to wipe away the headache that dealing with Nuuos had given him, then rubbed his tired eyes. Who could have thought that the fourth ruler was a naive dim-wit who was so easily manipulated by everyone around him? Yuuri had to agree, though, that things had turned out to be far better than he had expected.

Yuuri stopped briefly at the door to his chambers where he was saluted by four guards. Pushing the door open he caught a strong smell of herbs in the front room where, again, he was saluted by two more guards. He quickly walked into the bedroom. From her seat on the side of the bed, Gisela stood up to greet him. She bowed.

“How is he?” Yuuri asked, coming up to the large bed where he could see a shock of blond hair protruding from the blankets that all but hid Wolfram completely.

“It’s not life-threatening or permanent, but the Esoteric Stones have taken a toll on His Highness’ body. It will take time for His Highness to recover completely.”

Yuuri sat down onto the bed near Wolfram. Tentatively, he folded down the covers and reached his hand toward his husband’s pale face. Wolfram moaned painfully at the touch, and Yuuri retracted his hand.

“He has not regained consciousness once. He needs rest and peace. Very likely, after coming around, he will feel nauseated and weak – common aftereffects of Esoteric Stones. He won’t be able to eat or will eat very little for a few days.”

“Won’t it only make the illness last longer?”

“Yes, it will,” Gisela nodded. “But there’s no way of getting around that.”

Yuuri sighed. He stood up and started unbuttoning his jacket. “Has Lakarde come to see him?”

“Yes, but I told him to make it short. The more he sat at his father’s side, the more panic-stricken he seemed to become.”

Yuuri nodded. “Your duty for today is over. I’ve ordered them to prepare a room for you three doors down, just in case something serious happens.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Gisela bowed and left the chambers.

Yuuri finished undressing then put his pajamas on and slipped under the covers at the other side of the bed. Only now, knowing that his husband was here, right beside him, could Yuuri’s heart stop beating so madly. While dealing with today’s matters, Wolfram was the constant thought at the back of his mind. Even after being assured that Wolfram was alive and being taken care of, he still could not calm down.

Yuuri was awakened by Wolfram moving about in the bed. It was dawning outside the window. Immediately realizing what his husband wanted, Yuuri leaned past his blindly fumbling husband and quickly pushed the basket that had been left by Gisela closer. The sounds of retching followed.

“Better?” Yuuri asked, holding out a handkerchief for Wolfram when it seemed that the fit of sickness was over for now.

Wiping his mouth, Wolfram moaned something incomprehensible then, crumpling the handkerchief in his hand, his head sank back to rest on the pillow and he fell asleep.

The next time Yuuri woke up it was at the soft knock on the bedroom door. He blinked then rolled to his side to look at the clock; it was already eleven in the morning.

“Yes?”

“How is my father?”

“Don’t let him in.”

Yuuri turned his head to look at Wolfram. His husband had his eyes closed and his face was a sickly white color. Yuuri wondered if Wolfram was reacting appropriately to the situation. For some reason it seemed that Wolfram was not even sure where he was.

“He’s alright, Lakarde,” Yuuri called out. “Just sleeping.”

Yuuri’s words were met by silence, and Yuuri wondered if Lakarde thought that he was trying to hide something from him. “I think you should just let him see you,” Yuuri whispered to Wolfram. “He’s very worried.”

“I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t face him. Not after…”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. Was that Wolfram’s pride talking or real concern? In any case, wasn’t Wolfram just being stupid? Or perhaps even a bit cruel?

Lakarde’s voice wafted in again: “You will tell me when he wakes up, right?”

Yuuri threw a sharp look at Wolfram. “He is awake, Lakarde. Not very sensible, though,” he could not help the biting tone of his voice. “You can come in and see him.”

The door opened quickly and Lakarde rushed in. “Father?”

“Shh,” Yuuri put his index finger to his lips after noticing Wolfram frown painfully at Lakarde’s loud and alarmed voice.

“Oh, sorry,” Lakarde whispered. He hurried to his father’s side of the bed and, pushing the basket aside, leaned onto it. “Father?”

“Mmm?” Wolfram turned his head to give his son a small smile, his blond hair mussed and strands hanging before his eyes.

Lakarde’s face was split by a huge smile. The boy stared at his father with such a relieved expression that Yuuri felt something warm fill his heart.

“Gisela said that you would completely recover in a few weeks time?” Lakarde asked, hopeful.

Wolfram nodded. “Of course I will. Easily.”

Yuuri could see that Lakarde wanted to say something more. A few muscles around his mouth twitched but his lips stayed closed. Probably Lakarde thought that he had already given enough freedom to his emotions by bursting into his father’s bedroom like this.

“Rest, then,” Lakarde said, suddenly feeling somewhat awkward after catching Yuuri’s dark-eyed gaze. Was there pity? “I’ll come again in the evening.”

“Alright. See you then,” Wolfram nodded.

Wolfram exhaled loudly after Lakarde closed the door. He wanted nothing else but to sleep. Despite that, there were still some pressing matters to deal with.

“Help me to get to the bathroom.”

“Sure,” Yuuri nodded. He quickly dressed and found a robe for Wolfram. 

The way to and from the bathroom sapped what strength Wolfram had regained during the night. Finally, when he and Yuuri were back in the bedroom, he curled in the bed and just lay listlessly. There was another pressing matter, though to deal with before he could rest.

“What’s the situation?”

Yuuri gave his husband a skeptical look. “I think you just need to rest.”

“Oh, I’m not even dreaming of getting up. Just tell me what you know and I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

Worried, Yuuri walked closer to the bed. Wolfram admitting defeat with such quiet resignation was shocking. It made Yuuri realize that Wolfram was feeling much worse than he was letting on. Yuuri carefully sat down next to his husband. He started stroking Wolfram’s hair.

“I’m glad that you’re alright.”

“I’m not alright.”

“But safe.” Yuuri smiled as Wolfram turned his head and his forehead pressed into Yuuri’s palm.

“I’m sorry,” Wolfram muttered. “I…I’ve let you down. Because of me… What did you give up?”

Yuuri suddenly understood that he missed a very important thing – Wolfram did not know anything that had happened after he had been kidnapped. Yuuri shifted, shook the slippers off his feet and got into the bed, under the cover. Wolfram turned to him, his bleary eyes tired, guilty.

“It’s alright, Wolfram. Everything is alright,” Yuuri said, embracing Wolfram. “Amae came and I exchanged him for you.” The look on Wolfram’s face was priceless. Yuuri cracked a smile. “He insisted I hold him hostage. He’s not bad, that kid.” He lifted his hand to stroke the blond’s head again. “Everything is alright. You just rest.”

The sunshine gold of his husband’s hair flashed in the filtered light of the room, and the splash of color reminded Yuuri of something. Not releasing the blond, Yuuri again leaned over Wolfram’s shoulders and reached to his side of the bed, pulling open the nightstand drawer with his fingertips. Luckily, what he sought was just inside the drawer. 

Pulling back, he held the gleaming gold bracelet before the emerald eyes of his husband. “Give me your hand,” he said warmly. Obeying, Wolfram shifted slightly, turning in Yuuri’s hold until he could free his arm. Yuuri slid the golden bracelet over Wolfram’s hand and let the heavy metal come to rest in its proper place on Wolfram’s arm. 

Emerald eyes flashed from the bracelet to the dark eyes of his husband where they remained, gazes locked for a long moment before Wolfram closed his eyes and a long, slow breath escaped him as his body relaxed.

There was a pause, only the soft rusting of hair against Yuuri’s fingers heard, then Wolfram sighed, his breath devoid of his previous anxiety. “Tell me the news.”

Knowing that he would not be able to beat Wolfram’s stubbornness, Yuuri started in a soft voice: “Faraya is being kept in one of the guest rooms. You know, the one Leahir usually stays in. Shori’s, my and Nuuos’ barriers render his powers inactive. Nuuos…” Yuuri saw Wolfram frown at the unknown name. “Ah, he’s the fourth ruler, Nuuos Astar. Ahhh…how do I say this? I think there’s something wrong with the man’s head. I’m really not an expert, but this is some sort of dementia. He’s very nearly like a small child. Faraya convinced him that I had kidnapped his beloved Eola, and he enthusiastically agreed with Faraya’s plans to eradicate me and take over Mearan. He was Faraya’s back up plan in case I disagreed to exchange you for Ekara.

“We found Eola. It appears she eloped with one of courtiers from Nuuos’ castle. She was fed up with the, what she called, “silly adoration”. It seems there was a misunderstanding between them.” Yuuri ruffled through Wolfram’s hair. “But Nuuos doesn’t want to understand that or just can’t understand that – I’m not that sure,” he sighed. “He’s still raving about proposing to her. Murata is with him now, trying to calm down his fitful bouts of tears.” 

Yuuri stared at his husband’s relaxed face while his fingers were sliding through the blond hair. Was Wolfram asleep? “I don’t know how or why, but Murata knows him. Murata was the one to tell Nuuos that I had nothing to do with Eola’s ‘kidnapping’.” Really, Wolfram was deeply asleep. “And, surprisingly, or maybe not, Nuuos believed him immediately,” Yuuri whispered softly, finishing. He stood up carefully so as not to wake Wolfram. Bracing for another hard day with renewed strength, he left the bedroom.

He headed downstairs and started walking in the direction of the kitchen. It was past time to have something to eat.

“Your Majesty?”

He was not going to be allowed to eat in peace, was he? Suppressing a sigh, Yuuri turned to see one of the castle guards who had just approached him. “Yes?”

“Amae Sederu, well, the concubine…” the guard started tentatively.

“Yes, what’s up with that pest?”

“He demands to see his king. He…well, he’s being loud.”

Yuuri groaned. “At first I can’t make him meet Faraya, now he demands to see him… Why do I have to deal with these idiots?”

When Faraya had been fished out of the crater of water, Yuuri had decided that it would be safer for Amae to stay away from Faraya. Amae had seemed to be of the same opinion and did not protest when he was locked up at the other side of the castle.

The guard stared at Yuuri. “Your Majesty?” he tried meekly.

“Tell Amae I want to eat calmly. After I’m done, I’ll see to this matter. Oh…and tell him that the prince seems to be recovering.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard bowed, hurrying off.

Yuuri decided that the concubine was giving the guards a hard time. Maybe a chain and a doghouse somewhere in the garden would do more good than keeping him locked in a room. He would be useful at least.

Once in the small dining room just off the kitchen, Yuuri was served piping hot pancakes with jam and a few sandwiches. Taking his time, he ate, then had a mug of tea. After a while, deciding that, according to protocol, he had made Amae wait for his royal personage just the right amount of time, Yuuri finally left the table.

“I want to see Faraya,” Amae demanded as soon as Yuuri set foot into the room the concubine was currently inhabiting.

“So I heard.”

Without hurrying, Yuuri passed Amae and walked over to the table in the middle of the room and took a seat in one of the four chairs arranged around it. He motioned with his hand at the door, dismissing the guards. Bewildered, Amae stared at Yuuri who had put his elbows on the table, leaned his head onto his fists and stared back at him. Bewilderment started turning into anger.

Amae smiled. Composed, he came up to Yuuri and bowed. 

“A glass of wine, Your Majesty?” Amae offered humbly.

“With pleasure.”

With catlike grace, Amae went to the cupboard at the wall to retrieve a bottle of white wine and two glasses. After nimbly uncorking the bottle with his lean fingers, he filled one glass and put it on Yuuri’s right.

“May I ask Your Majesty’s permission to join Your Majesty in a drink?”

“But of course.”

Amae filled the second glass, again, spilling not a drop. He lowered the bottle to the table then took the chair opposite Yuuri. Still smiling, he raised his glass.

“To Your Majesty, then.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

Yuuri sipped the wine. “Faraya trained you well, didn’t he?”

Amae gave him a smile that might have been mistaken for a pleased one if it did not have such sharp edges around the corners of his mouth. “Oh no, there were many other men before Faraya, who…disciplined me.” Amae offered Yuuri another smile that cut like a sword. “You’ll see that I’m really well-behaved.”

This was why Yuuri did not like Amae – he had an unnerving air around him. Well, that was one of the reasons, the first and strongest one being that Wolfram liked this male too much.

Yuuri’s eyes followed the tip of Amae’s tongue that snuck out to catch a droplet on the glass then disappeared between two reddish lips.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

Amae looked surprised. Then hurt and innocent. Finally giving Yuuri another smile that was even sharper than the earlier ones. “So what if I am?”

Yuuri would have liked to tell Amae that he was thinking too highly of himself, but it…wasn’t really the case. “I thought you and Wolfram were friends? Saving his life was a generous gesture. But…sleeping with his husband…”

Amae’s smile widened. “Oh you see, while life is not replaceable, husbands are.”

His breathing hitched and Yuuri tried hard to get the wine flowing where it was supposed to flow. He started coughing when some of it still went down the wrong way. Damn that concubine.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Amae asked with deep concern in his voice. He was reaching for a handkerchief on the table, and Yuuri made a mental bet with himself that if the concubine had his way, he would probably strangle him with that handkerchief.

Yuuri took the offered handkerchief. He had come here intending to intimidate Amae, but, for some weird reason, it was going the other way round. People like Amae were scary when they thought they had nothing left to lose. And to think that Amae was nearly twenty years younger than he was… Just a youngster. Yuuri suddenly felt old and tired. 

“So you want to see Faraya?” Yuuri finally muttered when he got his breath back.

“Oh yes, very much so.” Amae gave him a flattering smile. “Your Majesty has an incredibly good memory!”

Yuuri did not even bother to reply. People like Amae… When they came, he had Wolfram or Gunter deal with them.

“Follow me.”

Yuuri was stunned at how instantly the mask fell from Amae’s face as soon as he got what he wanted. Now he seemed nervous and somewhat apprehensive. Obediently, without any further comments, the concubine followed him outside the room where they were surrounded by a handful of Yuuri’s bodyguards.

They crossed about a dozen corridors to get to the other side of the castle then climbed two staircases, and passed another dozen corridors. When they were finally standing at the door that opened into Faraya’s room, Yuuri noticed that Amae’s face was pale and he again had that reluctant air about him. Was Amae reconsidering? He was not having that.

Yuuri opened the door and, while Amae was trying to peer cautiously into the room, pushed him in without any warning. The concubine stumbled and would have landed face-first onto the floor if not for one of the body-guards catching him by his arm and helping him to regain his balance.

For all of his catlike walk Amae was a klutz, Yuuri decided, observing the empty room. Then his gaze settled on the opposite door leading to the bedroom. Faraya must be resting. As if on cue, the door opened, Faraya stepping out. His eyes swept towards Yuuri and Amae then settled on his concubine for a long tension filled moment.

“Well, well… look who’s here.”

“Hahh…yeah,” Amae tugged on his sleeve nervously while staring at Faraya through the lightly shimmering power barrier. It was very similar to what he remembered. Maybe now, as back then, everything could end well?

Yuuri gave a light shrug as Amae turned a questioning face in his direction. Why was Amae looking at him? Amae should be the one to know if it was safe for him to approach Faraya. Nonetheless, were it him in Faraya’s shoes, he would kill Amae. Or at the very least he would make sure Amae remembered to never mess with him again.

Still, Yuuri never imagined that Amae would seriously contemplate facing Faraya eye to eye and when Amae blinked out of existence in a burst of fire and appeared in the middle of the room in front of Faraya… Yuuri thought that he would just have to explain to Wolfram that Amae having a screw loose caused Amae’s death. But the more worrying thought was how Amae was able to open the gate and why he had not used it earlier. Now, in the middle of the barrier, Amae would not be able to open it either, so there was no danger in him helping Faraya escape. But it still was somewhat unnerving, although it explained how Amae was able to appear on Mearan on his own with Wolfram’s bracelet.

Amae fell to the floor with a thud when the king backhanded him in the face. Drawn swords hissed and armor jingled, but Yuuri’s raised hand stopped the guards from rushing forward. Not that they could have gotten through the barrier to do anything anyway. Yuuri could tell that if Faraya wanted the concubine dead, he would already be dead. This was just a measure of correcting Amae’s behavior and making sure he would not repeat the same mistake again. Not that he or Faraya believed that it would be of any use.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Faraya hissed down at the concubine, gasping in pain at the king’s feet. “Thwarting my plans and jeopardizing my life!” he shouted. “And for what?! For whom?! -Wolfram? You know the bastard will slit your throat as soon as he gets his hands on you! Do you know how much was at stake?!”

“You know,” Amae muttered while wiping the blood off his split lip, “I don’t really care about all of that. You idiots can kill each other off for all I care. I think I clearly said that I wanted no part in this. You know that besides having obligations to you, I also owed him. And if it cost both our lives – so be it.”

Enraged, Faraya grabbed Amae by the front of his tunic, lifting him off the ground easily. “I’ll just kill you now if you want to die so badly!” He shook the concubine furiously, almost strangling him. “You betrayed me because of him again! Who? Who is more important to you?!”

Amae managed a bitter smile. Was Faraya jealous? What idiocy, all of this. “Who? No, “what”. One has to finally stop running blindly after others.” He staggered briefly as Faraya suddenly released his grip on Amae’s tunic, but before he could regain his balance he doubled over in pain as Faraya punched him in the stomach.

“You ungrateful bitch!”

Gasping in pain, Amae spat the blood from his mouth. “It’s because I was made into one! And, you know…? I think I fit that role, don’t I?”

Growling in fury, Faraya grabbed him by his hair, lifting him. He drew his arm back, but the blow never came. Instead, Faraya shoved Amae back onto the carpet. “I can’t believe you did it again,” he hissed at the concubine sprawled out on the floor. “Fucked everything up again.”

“Oh yes, I’m good at fucking,” Amae chuckled, pushing himself up to his knees. He spat the blood out of his mouth. Watching the blood, soaking into the carpet, he sighed. “I’m tired, Faraya. Leave me some dignity. Either kill me or let me go.”

Faraya snarled. “You bitch, you know I can’t kill you.” He suddenly squatted down in front of the startled concubine. Grabbing Amae’s bracelet, he tore it off, the small golden plates and chains jingling nearly soundlessly down onto the carpet. Faraya straightened then tossed the mangled remains of the concubine’s bracelet next to him.

Staring at the mutilated bracelet, Amae touched his nose with his fingers gingerly. He winced at the pain. “So it ends like this?”

“And what do you want, Amae? A rain of tears and howls of despair? Damn it,” Faraya cursed. “This time you really did it.”

Amae stared at him until Faraya couldn’t hold his gaze and turned away. The king started walking away.

“I’m sorry for being a nuisance,” Amae said to his back.

“Yeah. Tend to your nose. It seems to be broken,” Faraya muttered without turning around.

Touching his nose again, Amae watched Faraya go. He lowered his head to stare at the carpet, as Faraya disappeared behind the door to the bedroom. The only guards that were left standing close to the power barrier were Kedash and Arachi. Probably they wanted to get a move on. Yuuri had gone away the same moment Faraya left.

Amae dropped his forehead into his hands and gripped at his hair. It hurt, it hurt like hell… his nose, his face. And it sure as hell felt right.

“You’d better see Gisela,” Arachi said, motioning for Amae to stand up and leave the barrier. He frowned as the concubine ignored him. He hissed at the concubine, “Listen, you…”

Kedash raised his hand to stop the string of words. “Leave him,” he said. “He is of no use now.”

The sound of receding steps made Amae laugh hysterically. A few clear droplets joined the red stains on the carpet, soaking into it quickly. He wiped at his eyes angrily and stood up. He left the barrier but his strength failed him and he squatted down on the carpet again.

“Damn,” Amae muttered a few seconds later. “A mere guard… That’s rich.”

“Let’s not indulge in self-pity now. C’mon, stand up and I’ll take you to Gisela.”

Amae’s gaze traveled along the floor until he came to the tips of Arachi’s boots. He had not heard the royal guard approach. “You are too nice. Really. I might consider falling in love with you.”

“That might have worked twenty years ago,” Arachi said, lifting Amae off the floor. “Now my husband wouldn’t be too happy about it.” After a few seconds of hesitation, Arachi also took the torn bracelet and its pieces from the carpet and secured them in his pocket. He lifted Amae’s head to inspect his face, ignoring the glistening tracks of tears running down both of Amae’s cheeks. “He really broke your nose.”

Amae rolled his eyes. The motion hurt. He let himself be supported and led through the castle. In one of the corridors they stopped and Arachi knocked at the door. Once inside, Gisela gave Amae some medicine that, according to the smell, he identified as soporifics. It meant his nose was out of place and she intended to set it. Without a protest he emptied the cup. He did not think it could get worse.

“Hold his head,” Gisela told Arachi after Amae slumped onto the sofa to lie there heavily and unmoving. 

“Is the medicine not enough?”

“It’s not very strong. I’m afraid any other means that I have might do some damage to him.”

“Mmm?” Arachi wondered. He squatted down at the sofa, brushed aside Amae’s hair that was getting in the way and firmly took the younger man’s head in his palms.

“He’s of mixed blood. I don’t know how one or another medicine might work on him. It’s like with our King. Wild guesses might make things worse and shouldn’t be tested.”

“Oh. I get it.” Arachi braced himself as Gisela leaned over the concubine.

Amae actually shrieked, then tried to hit Gisela, but never got to it as the pain was suddenly gone. His eyes closing, he sank back into a drug induced sleep.

“That’s it,” Gisela said, leaving the sofa and going over to a bowl filled with water to wash her hands. “You can either leave him here or take him back to his room. He should stay out for some three to four hours.” After drying her hands she approached her desk and took a bottle from it. It was the same medicine she had just used on Amae. “Tell him to add a few drops into his tea if he still feels pain after waking up. I’m going to check on the prince.”

Arachi nodded before taking the bottle. “Alright.”

Arachi carried Amae back into his room. There were no guards at its door. Arachi left Amae sleeping in his bed and called two castle guards to ensure that Amae did not leave the room.

XXXXX

Yuuri watched Murata and Nuuos playing cards. The fourth ruler was no longer depressed. His undying love for Eola died exactly a day later after he learned that she had run off with some other man. Sarcastically, Yuuri thought that whatever the man lacked in brain department, his manly ego was full-fledged.

“So, Nuuos, how many elements do you wield?”

From the cards in his hands Nuuos looked at Yuuri. “Earth, water and air. Three,” he counted.

“I see.”

“My favorite is that of earth.”

“Why?”

“I love canyons. There’s nothing like standing on the edge of an abyss.”

“We tend not to do that in Shin Makoku,” Yuuri politely warned him, now even more concerned about Nuuos’ mental state. “You know, houses falling apart, people dying and stuff…”

“Oh. Right,” Nuuos nodded.

Yuuri doubted that Nuuos knew what sarcasm was. He was not sure how to deal with the other ruler. He thought that this worrisome visitor needed a nanny or a good doctor. “When are you going back to Aliran?”

“Right after getting myself a wife.”

Yuuri stared at him. “Is there a lack of them on Aliran?” he finally asked. He did not want to be pushy, but he knew he would feel calmer with Nuuos far away from Shin Makoku and Mearan. Besides, Nuuos was a sore spot.

“Oh no, but the local women are so pretty! Especially that green-haired one.”

Ruefully, Yuuri turned his eyes to Murata. Murata nodded. Yes, it was Gisela. “She’s already married,” Yuuri lied even before thinking. Gisela had better thank him later.

“Pity.”

“Yes,” Yuuri agreed. He wondered if Nuuos had been like this from the day he was born or it happened after he had contracted three elements at once. He was afraid that one day it might happen to him turning him into a powerful simpleton. A danger to the kingdom he ruled over and the people he loved. Or to Lakarde who was already showing signs of inconsistency and was worrying him. In any case, Nuuos was a walking reminder that Yuuri did not want to have running here and there, unsupervised and uncontrolled, out of his sight.

“Murata?” Yuuri asked. “Where do you know Nuuos from?”

“Oh,” Nuuos all but grinned, “we are old friends.”

Yuuri’s demanding look made Murata sigh. “It’s just as he says – we are old friends.”

“How old are you, Nuuos?”

“Me? Hmm…” he wondered. “I would say about some three hundred. I’m not sure.”

Yuuri coughed. When the shock subsided, he asked, “And how old were you when you met Murata for the first time?”

“I don’t know. Ten? Twenty? No, younger.”

“I see.” Yuuri’s eyes went to Murata again. “Anything else you’d want to add?”

“Not really,” Murata shrugged. “Unless it is that I have bad luck in cards.” He tossed them onto the table in front of Nuuos. “You won.”

“Yay!”

XXXXX

Yuuri shot up in the bed. Alert, he looked around in the bedroom. It did not seem that anything was out of order. Confused, he rubbed his forehead, then jolted as a shriek sounded right next to him. He lowered his hand.

“Wolfram?” He shook his husband gently. Wolfram’s entire body jerked at the touch. He screamed again, and Yuuri removed his hand, unsure. Wolfram seemed to be trapped in a nightmare; his breathing was becoming faster, his body writhing. 

“Wolfram, do you hear me?” Yuuri tried again. “It’s just a dream, Wolfram!” As it was fruitless, he grabbed the blond by his shoulders and shook the blond with all his might. The sound that left Wolfram’s throat was like that of a wounded animal. His hands flailed about, seemingly trying to push Yuuri away but having absolutely no coordination.

Yuuri’s hand rose above Wolfram’s face. A strident slap rang in the bedroom at the same time as its door burst open and a handful of guards rushed in. All of them stared at the pair on the bed.

Wolfram gasped like he was drowning, his eyes shooting open. “Yuu-!” he gasped again, sitting up, almost throwing Yuuri off him. “Yuuri!”

“Shh,” Yuuri shushed his husband, taking his head between his hands and turning the blond’s face to him. “I’m here. See? It’s okay. You had a nightmare.”

Wolfram stared at him without blinking for a few moments as if this were the first time he was seeing his husband. Then his body turned liquid and he slumped back into the pillows. Yuuri watched his panting husband for a few seconds then gently touched his shoulder.

“Wolfram?”

Loudly, Wolfram swallowed the saliva that had gathered in his mouth. He opened his eyes to look at Yuuri’s worried face.

“I’m alright,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead, a faint tremor evident in his hand. “I just…just…”

“Yeah,” Yuuri reached to brush his fingers through the hair at Wolfram’s temple, feeling the sweat that dampened the golden strands and a flush of heat from Wolfram’s skin, “you just had a nightmare. You are somewhat feverish,” he said, retracting his fingers. “Should I call Gisela?”

Wolfram shook his head. “No. I’ll just go back to sleep. Tell them to go away.”

“Mm? Oh.” Yuuri turned to the door where the guards were still standing, not sure whether they should go back to their posts or stay in case they might be needed. “You can go back to your posts.” Yuuri turned back to Wolfram. He seemed to be sleeping again. Yuuri watched his husband’s sleeping face and felt waves of fury and hate engulfing him. Faraya was going to pay for this.

XXXXX

Wolfram woke up thirsty. Dizzy, he raised his head to look around. Yuuri was peacefully sleeping beside him. Wolfram looked at the table standing in the middle of the bedroom where a few decanters with water and liquor stood. Yuuri started and woke up as Wolfram shifted in the bed, intending to get up.

“Wh-what?” Yuuri muttered, sitting up in the bed, still half-asleep. Blankly, he stared at his husband’s back. “Where are you going?”

Wolfram turned around at Yuuri’s alarmed voice. “I’m going to get myself a glass of water.”

“I’ll get it for you. Stay in the bed.”

Giving a slight shrug, Wolfram lay back again. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Wolfram nodded. “Somewhat dizzy and disoriented, but it’s much better than yesterday.”

“I presume it’s because you haven’t tried to stand up.”

“Mmm?” Wolfram drawled. “Yeah, very likely.” He rolled over onto his back to watch his husband pouring him a glass of water. He sat up to take it when Yuuri carried it over to him. “Thanks.”

Yuuri leaned in to kiss him on the brow. “You’re welcome.” He carefully – so as not to spill Wolfram’s glass – sat down next to the blond. Wrapping his arms around Wolfram’s waist, he leaned the blond against him. He listened to Wolfram drinking, then put his cheek on Wolfram’s head.

Wolfram finished his water, resting his hands cradling the glass in his lap, and the two of them sat like that for a minute.

“Did he touch you?”

Wolfram stiffened at the unexpected question. He tried to turn to face Yuuri, but the arms around his waist tightened, preventing him from moving.

“No, he didn’t.” Wolfram could feel tension and what felt like a cold wave radiating from behind him. Did Yuuri suspect something? “I don’t think I would remember even if he did,” he admitted. “Most of the time I was unconscious.”

“Wolfram…” Yuuri started anger coloring his voice, but then stopped.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri muttered. “When I think that… I’ll make sure he pays dearly. And Amae…”

“Leave Amae out of this.”

Yuuri’s eyes darkened at Wolfram’s resolute voice. “What do you mean ‘leave him out of this’? He’s involved. Even if he came here to…”

“Yuuri, leave him alone. Alright?”

No, it was not alright, but Yuuri nodded, giving in. “He’s locked in his room. He can summon a gate, which makes it absolutely pointless. But I don’t think he has anywhere to go anyway.”

“Mm?”

“Faraya got fed up with him.”

“It’s over between them?”

“It seems so.”

“Good.”

Yuuri felt Wolfram’s body become heavy against his. The blond was starting to nod off. “Do you want to eat? I could bring…”

“No, ‘m just sleepy,” Wolfram mumbled.

After plucking the glass out of the blond’s hands and setting it on the floor, gently Yuuri laid Wolfram down onto the bedding then climbed out of the bed and started dressing. “If you need something call the guards. Someone will be stationed right outside the door at all times.” Wolfram hummed something, and Yuuri wondered if he had understood anything.

XXXXX

“Thanks,” Wolfram said, taking the cup with medicine that Gisela had offered him. “I feel much better.” He slowly drained the cup then held it out for Gisela to take.

“Does the shoulder still hurt?” Gisela asked.

“Somewhat.” Wolfram rolled his right shoulder tentatively and winced. He could not remember what happened, but logically assumed that he must have sprained it while struggling at some point.

“Would you like a massage?”

“Yes, I think it would help.”

Gisela nodded. “I’ll just get the ointment.” She stood up and left the room, taking the empty cup with her.

Wolfram started removing his shirt. After shrugging it off and flinching a few times, he tossed it on the nearby chair. Then he lay back into the bedding and turned on his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms, so that his back was bare down to his waist. There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“Your Highness?”

“Hn?” Wolfram raised his head, a little surprised as instead of Gisela it was one of his bodyguards.

“Sederu asks for an audience.”

“Sederu?” Wolfram frowned, then a face floated out of his memories of twenty years ago to fit the surname. “Oh, you mean Amae?” 

“Yes, the concubine, Sir,” the bodyguard specified.

“Let him in. Make sure there are guards around him, though.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hello, Amae,” Wolfram greeted the black-haired male, pushing up until he was sitting up in the bed. He was surprised to see that Amae had not changed at all from the last time he saw him.

The concubine threaded into the bedroom. “Your Highness,” he bowed.

“There’s no need to be so formal. After all, we know each other pretty well.”

“Alright.”

“Was there something in particular you wanted?”

“No, not really,” Amae shook his head. “I just…”

“Your Highness?”

Wolfram turned to the door where Gisela appeared, holding a bottle of ointment in her right hand.

“Ah, just wait for a moment,” Wolfram said. He turned back to the concubine.

Amae shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you’re better. See you.”

“Yeah. Don’t get on Yuuri’s nerves. Just a warning.”

Amae chuckled. “I think it’s already too late.”

Wolfram lay back down on his stomach when Amae left. Sullen, he stared at the headboard while Gisela massaged his shoulders and back. He and Amae were square now, but for some reason he somehow felt that Amae had paid more than he had earned twenty years ago. And Wolfram did not like to feel indebted.

After leaving the royal chambers, Amae turned back toward his room. He had nowhere else to go anyway. He was disappointed. He was not sure what he had been expecting from the meeting with Wolfram, but… He felt as if there should have been more to it than just an exchange of pointless words. Although… Maybe there had been more, but it had not been said in words. Wolfram had forgiven him. Maybe Wolfram was never angry with him to start with. For some reason… For some reason, five years ago when he left with Faraya, he had thought that Wolfram would not have been very surprised.

Amae halted in his path as he saw a blond boy of about ten or twelve years old walking his way. Amae stared at Lakarde for a few moments, as the green-eyed boy stared back. There was no need to ask whose child he was. Smiling, Amae reached out, intending to touch Lakarde’s hair. The child stepped out from under his hand before it could touch him. Amae’s smile brightened at the kid’s shyness. He reached out again, but then was stopped by the warning greenness that suddenly flared in Lakarde’s eyes.

“I don’t get it,” Lakarde said. “And Kyota was pining over someone like you..?”

His hand still hanging in the air, with a started expression on his face, Amae watched the kid’s retreating back as Lakarde dismissed Amae from his attention and continued down the corridor. 

A second later Amae lowered his hand. “Well, I don’t get it either,” he muttered.

TBC


	18. Part 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 43. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 10.  
>  A/N 2: Arisu – Kyota’s younger stepbrother, the child of Katarina’s second husband, Edohi. Arisu is just an episodic character.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 18

Slowly, a shiny speck of sunlight was traveling over a cheek. With every passing minute it crept forward until Yuuri blinked and rubbed his left eye. He had forgotten to draw the curtains. He rolled to his other side to hide from the sun’s rays. He threw his arm over Wolfram’s waist, his head dipping forwards until his forehead rubbed against the blond’s back. The seeping scent invaded Yuuri’s nose.

“Mhmhmm...” Wolfram hummed, appreciating the contact. He was still half-asleep and would have probably returned to dreamland if not for Yuuri, whose left eye, after hearing the soft sound, opened. Tentatively, Yuuri pressed his lips to the back before him. He started strewing it with soft kisses. With a silent moan, Wolfram shifted.

“Would it be okay if…?” Yuuri left the question hanging. Wolfram had not fully recovered, and Yuuri wanted to make this the blond’s choice. But from the way Wolfram was reacting, it was obvious that he also needed release. “Not intercourse, but…?” Yuuri felt that he was being somewhat pushy but the scent wafting from Wolfram was crushing his will to be considerate.

“No need to be so timid,” Wolfram muttered. “I was dreaming about sex all morning.”

Yuuri reached over Wolfram’s waist to slide his hand over the blond’s crotch. It did not seem that Wolfram was lying. Wolfram shifted, turning around to face him. Yuuri saw that the blond was still in that sleepy but warm daze that people sometimes woke up from. A warm daze filled with vague dreams of bodies, moans and arousal.

Yuuri rolled over to the side of the bed where he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the nightstand, then he returned to the blond’s side. After putting the tissues between them, Yuuri’s hands slid over the blond’s right side to push his pajama pants down. Wolfram wiggled to help him. Yuuri pushed down his own then. He slickened his palm with his saliva. Both of them grunted as Yuuri’s palm slid over their erections and brought them together. Sliding his palm up and down, he brought them to full hardness. Both of their breath quickened then started going in sharp gasps as Yuuri’s palm moved faster and faster, his fingers rubbing over the oozing heads. 

“I’m…” grunted Wolfram, tensing.

Yuuri grabbed the readied tissues just before Wolfram came. His own length throbbing, Yuuri wiped him. Then he took care of himself. He came a minute later. He lay for a few moments to get his bearings back then cleaned them both thoroughly.

Wolfram, with a contented smile on his face, soon fell asleep again. Yuuri, after lazing in the bed, enjoying the afterglow for about ten minutes, got up, threw his robe on, found a change of clothes and headed toward the baths. He halted on his way in one of the corridors after seeing Lakarde coming his way. The boy must have intended to visit his father. Yuuri thought about sending Lakarde back, but then shrugged mentally. Lakarde had to finally face the reality of their relationship sometime.

“Your Majesty.”

“Lakarde,” Yuuri nodded, passing him without stopping.

Somewhat suspicious, Lakarde turned to look at the king’s back. Something in Yuuri’s aura unnerved him. He hurried his steps towards the royal chambers.

Lakarde walked over to the bed where his father was lying, still asleep. The smell slapped him in the face. He knew it – the smell of sperm. The mixing scents of Yuuri and his father made Lakarde grit his teeth. So that was why Yuuri had given him that weird look in the corridor. His father had not completely recovered yet and that damn Yuuri… Lakarde stopped himself from ranting on in his head. Stopped because now Wolfram looked much better, his sleeping form peacefully sprawled under the covers. Maybe it had been the right thing to do after all.

Sighing, Lakarde sat down on the bed at Wolfram’s side. He watched his father’s face for some time then his gaze went to the window. He started as, after a few moments a hand pressed to his head, gentle fingers threading through his hair.

“It’s alright, Lakarde. You needn’t worry about me.”

The hand tugged him down, and Lakarde let himself be maneuvered until his head rested on his father’s chest. These moments were rare and, despite his awkwardly bent back and Yuuri’s scent still hanging in the air, he loved every second of it.

XXXXX

“What do you want to do about Amae?”

Wolfram’s fork, with a piece of fried chicken, stopped midway to his mouth. With a suspicious look on his face, Wolfram coolly observed Yuuri for a moment. Then his fork moved. He started chewing on the chicken.

“What?” Yuuri snapped. “It was you who said I should leave him alone. He’s your responsibility now.”

The other people at the table quieted. Interested, both Gwendal and Lakarde looked at Yuuri. What was that weird note in the king’s voice?

Wolfram reached for the glass of juice at his side. He took a sip, then another, and put it back onto the table. “Yuuri,” he said finally, “we’ll discuss this after the meal; when we are alone.”

A quick glace at the other diners clearly warned them that this would not be a good topic for them to comment on just now, and that done, Wolfram continued eating. From time to time he would cast a look at Yuuri. He could not believe that Yuuri was still jealous of Amae. It had been twenty years since the last time they saw Amae. Well, yes, Amae did appear again, and Amae did interfere to save him, and he did like the concubine to some extent and maybe he did consider Amae his friend and maybe he did feel obliged to Amae…. Wolfram groaned inwardly. He could see why his husband did not like Amae.

Sullen, Wolfram chewed on his chicken. Two days ago all ten noble families were sent a summons to be present at a trial where Faraya would have to face the consequences for his crimes: for keeping Wolfram captive twenty years ago; for arranging two attacks on Wolfram on Earth; for kidnapping him and trying to exchange him for his rights to rule Ekara again; and finally for attacking Yuuri and involving Aliran’s ruler.

Wolfram did not like the idea of the trial. Faraya or Amae might talk too much. Even the Great Sage knew what happened twenty years ago and might let the information slip. To hear Faraya or anyone else, in front of all the noble families, say that he had been raped was a vision from a nightmare.

Another thing that was worrying Wolfram was Kyota. As far as he knew, Kyota had not been informed about the kidnapping or Faraya and Amae being here. After his mother, as a head of the family, got the summons… Wolfram was not even sure how Kyota might react. 

“So?” Yuuri demanded as soon as he and Wolfram were in their chambers. “What are you going to do with Amae?”

Wolfram got up from the sofa and went to the cupboard that held the wine and glasses. He felt a headache starting. He brought a bottle and the glasses to the table and flopped into the armchair. Then he started opening the bottle.

“I’m going to give him a job. That’s what I’m going to do,” Wolfram said after the cork gave with a soft pop.

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed. “In the Castle?”

“Yes, in the Castle. He has to support himself somehow.”

Yuuri took the offered glass then swallowed a big gulp from it. “A job?” he asked in the sweetest voice. “Are you going to open a brothel here?”

Although Wolfram was stunned that Yuuri had let his jealousy get so far, he refused to react. “I asked around in the Castle and I was informed that one of the servants from the kitchen had drowned two days ago. I intend to hire Amae in his place.”

Yuuri took another gulp from his glass. “Will he agree?”

Wolfram nodded. “He will. He has no other choice.” The blond sighed at his husband’s sour look. “It’s only temporary. I’ll come up with a better idea later.”

Yuuri churned the wine in his glass. With darkened eyes, he watched his wine as his husband finished his glass and placed it on the table, then Wolfram stood up.

“I’ll go to the baths.”

Yuuri knocked the rest of his drink down. Abruptly, he stood up. Wolfram turned around at the sound of the glasses and the bottle jingling as Yuuri accidentally caught the tablecloth and nearly dragged it after him. Irritated, Yuuri smacked the cloth away, up onto the glasses and the bottle.

“What the hell are you doing?” Wolfram snorted, turning away and walking over to the wardrobe to get his pajamas. 

There was the sound of quickly moving feet, then Wolfram gasped as his front suddenly hit the doors of the wardrobe.

“And you don’t know?!” Yuuri hissed into his ear. “As if you have no idea!”

Wolfram felt Yuuri’s hot breath against his right ear. Yuuri smelled of wine. Bracing his hands against the doors, he pushed himself off the wardrobe. At first Yuuri hesitated, using force to keep him trapped, then let him go. Wolfram turned around. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s neck and shoulders. Unmoving, they stared at each other for a few seconds.

“You know, no matter how much I enjoy your jealousy,” Wolfram muttered finally, “he’s only here temporarily. I consider him more a comrade-in-arms than anything else.”

“And this is what I don’t get. What comrade-in-arms? Sounds stupid beyond comprehension. You don’t like people like him. You usually don’t.”

“Hmm…” Wolfram hummed, leaning his head back and resting it against the wardrobe door as he relaxed in Yuuri’s hold. “I think you’re mistaken,” he smiled lazily. “What about Kyota?”

Yuuri stared at him as if the similarity only now became apparent. “Are you trying to calm me down or make me even more jealous?” he asked finally.

“He helped me once and he came to help again. I...”

“This is what worries me the most,” Yuuri said darkly. “Why is he running after you?”

“Yuuri, have you ever heard of “friendship”?”

Yuuri laughed in disbelief. “You and that whore?”

“His profession is not really my business, darling.”

Yuuri frowned at Wolfram’s warning tone. He realized he was being unreasonably jealous, but could not help it. He did not like his man getting worked up because of someone else. Why was Wolfram so bent on defending Amae?

“Oh, please, Yuuri!” Wolfram groaned at his husband’s frown. “I met him twenty years ago! I did not even think about him until now.” He was lying, of course, but all of this was irrelevant anyway.

Yuuri sighed. He leaned his body against Wolfram’s and put his head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes. “I’m… I think I’m more worried about him taking the initiative, and you creating opportunities for that by being too friendly with him.”

Laughing softly, Wolfram petted Yuuri’s head. “You know that I’m not that naive to be insensibly seduced. Especially by the likes of Amae.”

“Well... He’s a professional, isn’t he?” Yuuri muttered.

“Exactly. That’s why,” Wolfram chuckled. Yuuri raised his head and Wolfram grinned at Yuuri’s questioning look. “Don’t worry. I don’t interest him. Currently all that interests him is Faraya.” He placed a warm kiss on Yuuri’s lips. “Appeased?”

Yuuri pursed his lips. “Don’t make me feel like a child.”

“But aren’t you pouting?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes then leaned in to return the kiss. He had to agree that Wolfram was good at handling him.

XXXXX

Lakarde stopped in front of the door to the royal chambers and reached out to the handle. He heard laughter. He stopped to listen but he could not hear what was said; only bursts of loud laughter penetrated the door. He knocked. 

Wolfram and Amae were sitting at the table in the middle of the room, a bottle of wine open on the table. The bottle was nearly empty. Amae turned to grin owlishly at Lakarde who stood in the open doorway while Wolfram was finishing his glass.

“He looks almost exactly like you,” Amae finally commented. “Well, when you were a child.” He thought for a moment. “Not that I’ve ever seen you as a child.”

“Hmm…” Wolfram contemplated, putting his glass onto the table. He blinked at the bottle.

“I’m not a child,” Lakarde stated.

Wolfram looked at his son, wondering. “Last time I checked you were,” he said.

“You behave childish enough to me,” Amae pointed out, grabbing the bottle out from under Wolfram’s nose. He started pouring the last drops into his glass. He ignored Wolfram’s glass that he stretched out to him. “You’ve had enough. Your husband will tear my head off if I let you get drunk.”

Lakarde wanted to say that he could not care less how things looked to Amae but decided against it. It seemed that the concubine was on overly familiar and good terms with his father.

Amae swallowed his wine in a gulp then stood up. His brain struggled to handle all the alcohol he had been drinking. For a few seconds he stood gripping at the table then let go carefully. Slowly, he drifted to the door.

“So you start tomorrow at six in the morning.”

“Right,” Amae said, reaching out for the handle. “Thanks.”

Wolfram hummed something under his breath. Regretfully he looked at the empty bottle on the table. He yawned loudly.

“Lakarde?”

“Yes, Father?”

“There’s a letter in the upper drawer,” he pointed at the cupboard. “I think I’d like to read it now.”

Lakarde went to the drawer where he found the letter. He saw that it was from his grandfather. His eye also caught sight of a small glossy packet in the drawer. Lakarde closed the drawer and carried the letter to Wolfram. While his father was reading the letter, he went back to the drawer to investigate.

Lakarde thought of his grandfather not without annoyance. He had never liked the man. His feelings sprang from how his father and grandfather acted around each other. There was some sort of tangible tension and distance between them, no matter what the circumstances. Besides… he had heard his grandfather making a comment about Wolfram inheriting Cecilie’s womanly face. Innocent jokes were fine and he did not mind them, but Lakarde was sure that it was a veiled insult. A man who could say that about his son was not worth his attention. Especially when Lakarde was pretty sure that he had a very similar face to his father.

“What the…?” muttered Lakarde.

From the armchair where he was reading the letter, Wolfram looked over to the drawer that Lakarde was leaning over. His son was holding a small colorful packet in one hand while his other raised a shiny batch of square folded objects. Lakarde put the packet onto the cupboard and took interest in the square objects. The string of shiny things unrolled with a flop, its end falling back into the drawer.

Wolfram felt blush threatening to engulf his face. Very likely Lakarde had been rummaging about in the drawer trying to find something to appease his sweet tooth. He wondered if he should tell Lakarde that what he was holding were condoms. 

“Hmm?” Lakarde gave him a questioning look, raising the garland. It seemed he was already pretty sure that what he was holding was not sweets.

“Just open one of them.” Rubbing his forehead, Wolfram went back to reading the letter. He was glad he was drunk enough not to mind this. He heard the sounds of tearing then silence followed.

“Gh.”

The sound was that of realization. Head still, but throwing a glance sideways, Wolfram looked at his red-faced son who now was staring at the unrolled condom in his hands. He was glad that Lakarde was old enough to understand the purpose of it by himself. He was not sure he wanted to explain things in detail. He doubted there was enough alcohol in the entire Castle to make him feel like explaining.

“You can keep them,” Wolfram said. 

“Haahh…” Lakarde drawled. “Th-thanks. I s-suppose.” 

Wolfram wondered if Lakarde could be any redder. In a few seconds Lakarde folded everything up and stuffed it in his pocket and scurried out of the room.

Wolfram yawned. “Well, let’s see how this doesn’t make you a child.” 

XXXXX

As he was told that Wolfram and Yuuri were in a meeting, Kyota decided to take care of his stomach first. But when he swung the kitchen door open he stopped short, his feet rooted to the floor. His hand stayed frozen on the door, not letting it close while he stared in front of him. The scene that he saw was one from twenty years ago. It made him feel as if he were on Ekara again, in the middle of the camp watching Amae cleaning fish that he and Asami had just caught. 

So as not to disperse the image, Kyota stood still, observing Amae dressing fish. Kyota thought that he had probably gone mad or gotten sunstroke, but he wanted to savor this pleasant delusion for as long as possible. But the longer he stood the more conflicting details he noticed. First, the ambience did not remind one of a military camp – this was a kitchen. A kitchen filled with steam and heat, clattering cooking utensils and smells of various foods. Amae wasn’t wearing his usual tunic either. He had never seen this green one. Besides, it did not feel like an illusion at all and he did not feel like fainting either. Actually, he felt pretty well right now.

“Amae?” Kyota called softly, almost sure that now the scene before his eyes would just pop like a soap bubble.

The man at the table raised his head to look at him. Blue eyes got incredibly wide after seeing Kyota at the door.

“Kyota?” Amae asked in disbelief. He stared at the older male for a few long seconds then lowered the knife that he had been using to dressing the fish onto the cutting board. He looked around. Lunch had ended twenty minutes ago and the kitchen was deserted. The cooks would come back in an hour or two, and by then he would be finished with his task.

Wondering what he would find in the larder, Amae went to the sink to wash his hands. “What are you doing here? Hungry? Want something to eat? I’ll get you something.”

Kyota finally stepped into the kitchen and removed his hand off the door, letting it close behind him. The question seemed absurd to him. Him? What was he doing here? This was coming from a man who had disappeared twenty years ago..? Who cared about eating?

“Me? What am I doing here?” Kyota questioned while approaching Amae. “Never mind me. I’m more interested in the phenomenon of you being here.”

Alarmed, Amae turned to him. There was something very disturbing in Kyota’s voice. What he saw on Kyota’s face made him even more worried. Kyota started advancing, and Amae started backing away. He felt his legs press against one of the tables.

Amae staggered and grunted as a heavy slap landed across his face. His ears ringing, Amae held his burning cheek. He felt lucky that Kyota spared his nose, which was still healing. Not looking at Kyota, he rubbed his face then turned to go to the larder.

“I think there are some chicken wings and stew left.” He motioned with his hand. “Sit down.”

“Amae!” Kyota yelled at his back.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Amae said, opening the door to the larder.

There was a sharp intake of air heard. “You…” Kyota hissed.

“I never vowed to stay with you,” Amae said, his voice low, reconciling. “There were no promises.”

“It’s not about that!” Kyota yelled. “You… I loved you!” he spat out in a voice full of hurt.

From the doorway, Amae turned around to give him a bitter smile. “And I loved him. I still do.”

“You…”

“I’m sorry,” Amae said, leaning on the door. He did not think Kyota was hungry anymore. “I really am,” he repeated. He tensed as Kyota advanced forward, his posture threatening, face filled with whirling emotions one chasing after another in a blur. But then the man stopped. 

Amae exhaled loudly as the door behind Kyota closed with a glass-shattering slam. Still unsure if Kyota would decide to come back or not, he pushed himself off the larder door. Slowly, he drifted back to the table where he again undertook the task of dressing the fish.

XXXXX

Wolfram left the meeting hall and closed the door. He saw Kyota leaning on one of the windowsills in the corridor. Kyota had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring at him intently. Wolfram knew that look.

“Let’s go to my study,” Wolfram said, motioning for Kyota to follow him.

Once in the study, Kyota started pacing the floor silently. A minute later, he dropped into the chair, in front of Wolfram who had sat down earlier.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kyota asked in a reproaching tone.

Wolfram shrugged. He was not sure why. Somehow he had known how Kyota would react. 

“Why is he in the Castle? In the kitchen?!” Kyota threw his arms around in his agitation.

“He’s much more useful there than rotting in the dungeon.”

Kyota glared at his friend. He knew why Wolfram had said nothing to him about Amae. Wolfram was trying to walk a fine line between the two of them. Wolfram knew his and Amae’s confrontation and the further interaction was going to be unpleasant and tried to postpone it for as long as he was able to.

Kyota left his chair and again started walking up and down the study from one corner to another. Wolfram watched him out of the corner of his eye. This was another headache.

“What did you think when you saw Amae, Kyota?” Wolfram asked. “Did you think you had been a fool to chase after that worthless man? Or did your heart start thumping madly, like in spring? So which was it? Tell me and it will be obvious.”

Kyota nearly started growling. “He betrayed me! He betrayed you and Yuuri! What do you think I felt?!” Kyota yelled at him, his dark blue eyes burning.

“All he did was leave with the man he loved,” Wolfram said calmly, not affected by Kyota’s anger. “You know, if Yuuri ever decided to go against another ruler, I’d also stand by his side.”

Kyota laughed. “You’re comparing Yuuri to Faraya?”

“No, I’m just comparing the feeling.”

The blue-haired man gave him a grim look.

“I also suspect that Amae hoped to influence Faraya’s future plans. He did to some degree,” Wolfram added.

“You are overrating that whore.”

Wolfram shrugged. “It’s a fact that he did try to help, though.”

Kyota’s burning eyes set on Wolfram’s face. “I hate that bitch!”

“No, you love him.”

Kyota opened his mouth, intending to protest, but then his lips stuck together again. He suddenly was brought years back when he was saying those words to Wolfram.

“I hate him,” Kyota spat distastefully, turning around.

Wolfram leaned into the back of the chair and slowly shook his head while watching Kyota slamming the door behind him. “And now he’s running away,” he sighed. “Which of us are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”

XXXXX

At the dinner table, Kyota was filled in on the current situation with Faraya. The first meeting of the court was going to take place in three days. Yuuri had also sent Murata to Ekara to call as witnesses about ten people who had been working for Faraya before he disappeared. Nuuos and his subordinates were also going to be present. Despite this, Yuuri wondered about Nuuos’ eligibility to testify. 

“When is your mother arriving?” Wolfram asked.

“She and Arisu should be here about tomorrow noon,” Kyota answered. “He’s also bringing his new girlfriend. He wanted you to meet her.”

Wolfram nibbled on his bread. In some ways Arisu still acted like a youngster, showing off his newly acquired “accessories” to everyone. The prince could bet that this new woman was even flashier and even more self-obsessed than the previous one. This was exactly the reason why Arisu had never been in a relationship for longer than a month. In comparison, “Kyota the Heartbreaker” seemed to lose his shine. But it made Wolfram wonder whether Kyota had been a bad influence on his younger brother or it was just something in Katarina’s blood.

Dinner would have gone smoothly if not for Amae showing up to refill the gravy boat at Gwendal’s request.

Kyota’s chair pushed back from the table while his amused eyes set on Amae, who swiftly walked over to the table and exchanged the empty gravy boat for a full one. “A servant…?” Kyota drawled mockingly. “What a drawback in your career!”

With a radiant smile on his face, Amae looked at him. “Why, you misunderstood something, Sir. It’s a huge step up from being a whore. Now, please excuse me,” he bowed and hurried back to the door with the empty gravy boat in his hands.

Kyota’s eyes bore into the wooden door that had closed behind Amae. A few seconds later, he turned back to the table. Everyone was pretending that they had not heard anything, but Kyota could see that Wolfram was trying to suppress a smile. Kyota glared at him.

“I suggest the wine,” Wolfram motioned with his hand at the couple of bottles on the table. “The finest quality.” He chuckled as Kyota did exactly that, pouring himself a glassful.

Nonetheless, after filling his glass, Kyota just stared at it idly. He started swirling the wine. Amae was exactly the same as he remembered. While he had already started shaving his beard, the former concubine had not aged at all. Amae’s long dark hair; big, intently blue eyes were framed by a face that put many women to shame… The same long black hair that had unconsciously made him want to dislike Amae – Yuuri had the same color hair. But then, Amae was nothing like Yuuri. Amae was loud, obnoxious, physically weak and perverted, acted like a drama-queen but could manipulate people pretty well. The only similarity to Yuuri was that all of those qualities were overlaid by some strange feel of innocence around Amae. 

“Damn it,” Kyota cursed, chugging the wine.

XXXXX

It was late already. Amae hurried his step. The corridor leading to the baths seemed to be unusually dark, with only a few torches lightening the long corridor. It was the third day of his duty in the kitchen and today he had been working until late. Working until all of the dishes were done and the tables scrubbed clean. Amae’s step faltered. Being a servant did not bother him. What bothered him were those lowlifes who were standing in front of him. He was not that loved among the servants and guards. Being the concubine of the enemy did that to one. He presumed that his loosely flying tongue also had something to do with it too.

Ignoring the two figures, Amae walked past them. He stumbled as he was suddenly pushed. His shower gel and the sponge fell onto the floor. Amae did not risk bending down to gather them up. He knew the men. Rass worked with him in the kitchen. The second one had just recently been accepted into gardeners. 

The gardener’s hands shot out to grab him and Amae stepped backwards along the corridor to avoid him.

“What do you want?” Although Amae did not know why he was bothering to ask – even being a half-blood Mazoku – he could smell the excitement and anticipation in the air.

“I think it’s pretty clear what we want, hm?” Rass spat. He shot forward and this time Amae did not take any chances. He just turned around and ran back down the corridor. He had only crossed a few meters before he almost smashed face-first into a third figure that had been looming behind the door leading into the main hall. 

“Gotcha,” the man said, slamming the door shut behind him and leaning on it. His wide grin promised no good in that half-light.

Amae could hear the other two approaching. The man who was blocking the exit also moved forward. He had seen the face around a few times, wasn’t he a messenger or something? Turning so to put his back to the wall, Amae stared at the three. He absentmindedly wondered why he was still holding the towel and shampoo in his hands.

“Hold him!” the gardener hissed furiously as Amae’s nails slashed across his face.

Amae yelped as his arms were grabbed and he was hurled against the wall, his back hitting it painfully. 

“Keep his mouth closed!”

The concubine fought against the hold on his wrists but won nothing. Someone’s palm pressed over his mouth and he was pulled off the wall with a clear intention to turn him around. Amae’s leg swung forward and he bit down, hard. 

“You bitch!”

Amae’s head rattled against the wall at the punch. The gardener was cradling his hand; while Rass was writhing on the floor, soothing his jewels. Smashing the bottle of the shampoo against the wall, Amae spat the blood out. He wondered if any of his teeth were broken. Waiting a few months for them to grow back was not a thought he was fond of.

The messenger moved forward, and Amae slashed at the place where his neck had been a second ago. He was a little too slow against a full-blooded Mazoku, he knew that. But that did not stop him from slashing at the messenger’s face again. Screaming, the man fell to the ground while holding his bleeding face in his hands.

Amae gasped in pain as the gardener kicked at his wrist. He dropped the neck of the bottle and cradled his wrist. The next kick was aimed at his stomach and Amae dropped to the floor with a loud wheeze. While he was trying to get on his hands and knees, his hair was grabbed. Wincing, Amae followed the lead of his pulled hair and stood up.

The gardener swung his arm. “You little…”

Amae blocked the blow with his right arm but the tug at his hair made him yelp in pain. Why were people always calling him little even if he was taller than them?

“Hold the bitch there!” Rass yelled while finally getting to his feet. He was still soothing his abused crotch. He gritted his teeth in fury while glowering at Amae. “I’ll fuck your ass then make you suck my dick until you choke!” he spat.

“Been there, done that.”

“Damn slut!”

Amae gagged as he was punched in the stomach again. A few seconds later, panting, he raised his head to look around. He found himself already lying on the floor, his clothes being ripped off. After trying to push the men away, it became clear to him that it was no use. The men were enraged and all he could do now was only to earn more punches and kicks. 

His tunic was gone in a second, the messenger now grabbed at his underwear, tearing it off. The man’s face was still dripping blood. Now it was all about revenge for him. 

“So you aren’t going to let me go, are you?” Amae gasped out. He yelped as his hair was grabbed again and he was turned around with his ass raised in the air.

“Gah!” The messenger let go of Amae and jumped away at the sudden flare of heat. Then he realized that he had been burned. The concubine’s body was glowing with flame.

The messenger summoned the wind. A swish of air flattened Amae to the wall. But the next second a retaliating plume of fire swallowed the messenger himself. Amae’s head turned to the side where the gardener had grabbed the splinter of the shampoo bottle and obviously intended to skewer him with it. The concubine’s eyes flashed. 

“Stop it right now!”

Amae’s eyes snapped to the door where a couple of armed guards appeared. He did not know what to do or whether the guards were a new threat or not. As far as he knew, the castle guards were very adept in hand-to-hand combat and element wielding and in case they were a threat, he had no chance.

“Lower your arm!” shouted the older guard of the two at him.

Reluctantly, the concubine obeyed. 

“Don’t even think of summoning your element,” the same guard warned the lying messenger but after getting closer to him, it was more than obvious that the charred unconscious man was not even able to attempt that. “Shit, get a healer!” he ordered the younger guard. Still holding the sword in his hand, he turned to Amae.

The concubine stepped away, but all the man did was sheathe his sword and take off his jacket to put it on Amae to cover his nakedness. The guard was more than sure that after their brains started working again, the demonstration of the concubine’s fire element would keep the other two men from moving.

“What happened?” the guard asked Amae.

“The three of them attacked me… intending rape,” the concubine confirmed the obvious. 

The guard took a closer look at the concubine, but apart from the split lip, the swollen eye and a bouquet of blossoming bruises all over his body, it did not seem that the man had sustained serious damage. This had been bound to happen. He had warned his men to be on guard for this. The concubine was the subject of many disagreements, passions and interests and it had only been a question of time which had actually come surprisingly fast. 

A few minutes later, Gisela, her assistants and five more guards rushed in. The guards went to the still standing men while Gisela knelt next to the messenger and opened her bag to find some painkillers. Then she started working on peeling the charred clothes off his burnt skin. The man screamed. A few seconds later, he fell unconscious again.

Amae felt a tug on his arm and raised his head to look at the guard. “We’ll have to take you for further interrogation. I’ll send one of them over to see to you after they are done here,” he said motioning at the messenger.

Absentmindedly, Amae nodded. He followed the guard down the corridor. They went to the northern wing of the castle where the security quarters were. The concubine found himself being led into a small room, but it did not seem anything like where an interrogation should take place. It was just a common study.

“Here,” the guard took a pair of sweatpants off the chair where they had been lying neatly folded. He tossed them to Amae who caught them awkwardly. The guard’s eyes slid over the concubine’s black and blue wrist. It did not seem broken or sprained, though.

The guard waited for Amae to pull the sweatpants on. “I’ll interrogate those two first. Meanwhile you can have a nap,” he said while motioning to the couch behind Amae.

“Aren’t you being too lenient with me?” the concubine asked already dropping onto the aforementioned couch.

“It’s not like you can run away, is it?” the guard sighed.

The concubine shrugged at that, but both of them knew that it was impossible for Amae to hide having that hair color. Inside the castle walls it was possible to some extent, but there was no way to escape from the castle. “We’ll still need for that third one to come round and talk. And that will obviously take a few days,” the guard added.

Amae nodded resignedly. As soon as the guard left, Amae sagged into the couch. Heaving a long sigh, he touched his lower lip then traced the contours where his eye was swelling. He wondered if he should have just given in instead of using Faraya’s element. Being forced was not such a big deal to him. That charred body… Was it really necessary? But then… Faraya had released him. He did not want to start his life anew by going back to what he had experienced before. 

For a few minutes, Amae stared at the ceiling then waved his hand to extinguish the candlestick on the table.

TBC


	19. Part 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 43. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 10.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 19

Had Amae been a simple servant, the matter would not have reached the king. It was a pity that he wasn’t. Annoyed, Yuuri cast his eyes over the approaching former concubine. He was being led by one guard, another guard following him. Amae’s step was firm, although not challenging. It seemed that the man was not sure why he was here, but was prepared to defend himself in any way possible.

From up close, Yuuri could see Amae’s puffy lip, the bruised nose and black swollen eye. Despite that, Amae looked nothing like a criminal. The stance, and the clear, intelligent eyes said the opposite.

The incident had taken place yesterday, late at night. One of the attackers had been seriously injured. Gisela had informed Yuuri that his life was not in danger.

The king turned to his right side, to where his husband sat on his throne. He could not decipher the expression the blond wore. He was either amused or annoyed or all at once.

“Well, you’re responsible for him, you deal with this,” Yuuri muttered. He turned to stare at Amae who was stopped in front of them. Amae made a deep bow.

“I don’t think there’s much to deal with,” retorted Wolfram at the displeasure in Yuuri’s voice.

“You’re taking this too lightly,” Yuuri warned him.

Wolfram offered him a smile. “He is a victim, Yuuri. There is nothing to take it too lightly.”

Yuuri felt himself drawing back from that smile. Wolfram was right to some extent, he knew that. Despite that, it irritated Yuuri. Most of the time the blond was not really interested in these kinds of affairs. Other times… Other times, he was used to Wolfram knowing his nature and trying to pacify him and avoid making him jealous. Why the hell when it came to Amae, wouldn’t Wolfram budge even a millimeter? Why when it came to Amae, was it that Wolfram’s behavior turned unpredictable? Yuuri didn’t like feeling so uncomfortable, so unsure of his own husband.

“But to burn him like that!” Yuuri disagreed. “It was too much!”

Wolfram’s eyes flashed at him with unspoken ferocity. “Yuuri, when did you become a hypocrite?” the blond asked in a voice that would have sounded like a mild reproach if not for very clear warning undertones and the eyes that were ablaze with emerald.

Superficially, the remark told Yuuri that Wolfram would have done the same in Amae’s shoes, but Yuuri, thinking that his husband had no precedent to be so angry and so emotionally involved over this, caught on to what was hidden underneath. Yuuri suddenly knew where it was coming from. 

Instead of replying, Yuuri closed his mouth. Wordlessly, he stared at Wolfram. 

He knew. Now he knew for sure what it was between Wolfram and Amae. He also knew why Wolfram was so bent on this. He had always suspected that there had been something, something that Wolfram had never told him, but now he knew for sure. Frowning, he stared at his husband for a minute, their gazes fighting, but for an entirely different reason than Wolfram thought. Then, surprising Wolfram, Yuuri suddenly lost interest in him and turned back to Amae. 

“I was informed that this was not the first time you were harassed. Why haven’t you complained?” Yuuri asked him. Now he just wanted to deal with the annoying concubine quickly, so that he would have some time to think everything over. Now this was just a formality.

Amae gave the king an amused look. “Would have it changed anything?”

Suddenly, Wolfram looked angry. “Are you accusing His Majesty of disregard of His subjects?” he hissed in a soft low voice, ready to pulverize Amae; not only had Amae kept silent, now he was also shifting the blame to his husband!

From Yuuri, Amae’s eyes went to Wolfram. The former concubine’s face paled at the sight of the unconcealed wrath. Yuuri got the feeling that Amae was more afraid of Wolfram than him. This irritated him somewhat. 

“Really, are you?” Yuuri asked Amae, seconding Wolfram. 

Amae gritted his teeth. He felt he was treading on dangerous grounds. “No, I’m not.”

“That’s good,” Wolfram said. “Because my husband is a righteous king. But he can’t read your mind if you keep your mouth shut, can he?” 

From the way all of this was phrased, Yuuri understood that Wolfram was angry with Amae for letting it all go so far. Unfocusing his gaze, Yuuri propped an elbow on the arm of his throne, resting his chin on his fist while he watched Amae from the corner of his eye. He was not that sure what to do with the former concubine. Things could not stay as they were. He did not like Amae, and he did not like Amae being anywhere near Wolfram. Even though, now he had completely different reasons for not liking that. 

“Restore his water element and put him under Gisela’s direction.” 

Yuuri turned to look at Wolfram incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” But Wolfram’s emerald gaze was firm. Yuuri felt the urge to sigh.

The blond stood up from the throne, crossing his arms and taking a step forward. “You want to punish him, right?” Wolfram stressed, his tone annoyed, but at the same time having a touch of amusement. “Well, once you restore his power, he can immediately start redeeming himself by tending to that rapist’s wounds.”

Yuuri watched his husband. “Are you sure you aren’t being too lenient?” he asked then, although he knew that at this stage the question was pointless. Besides, he had already given Wolfram permission to deal with Amae, which meant he didn’t have much say now.

“He would be of much more use if he just worked with Gisela.” Wolfram stared down at Amae. “You did like working with her earlier?” Amae gave a slow nod. “Sign the transfer order, then,” Wolfram said to Yuuri.

Yuuri thought for a moment. That would have been fine with him if not for Amae being a concubine of an enemy. Nobody knew what Amae might do. He had no such trust in Amae as Wolfram had. He protested, “But…”

“He will behave. Won’t you?” Wolfram addressed Amae again.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Amae gave a short bow. He watched the king motion for his clerks. One of them ran over to Yuuri immediately and held out a pen and a sheet of paper. The prince walked over to the king’s throne and propped himself on it while watching what his husband was writing. 

Amae met the king’s eyes as the king lifted his head from the paper for a second to give him a dark gaze. At first Amae thought that it was the usual jealousy deep in those dark eyes. Then he realized he could see past that. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was more serious than that.

XXXXX

The day was cold and misty, the autumn dampness permeating the castle, only hearths and fireplaces helping to fight it off. It was warm in the kitchen though, the smells of cooking still in the air. The cooks and servants were already gone, only one person left to clean the mess the kitchen usually turned into after every meal. 

From the doorway, Wolfram watched Amae’s back while the man was washing the kitchen floor. This was the last day Amae would be working in the kitchen. Amae had his hair in a plait, the ends of his tunic tied in a knot so as not to sweep the floor that he was scrubbing heartily. From time to time he would unwrap the cloth from the end of the broomstick and wash it in the bucket of murky steaming water beside him. Wolfram guessed that Amae was thorough in everything he did. Be it scrubbing or sex.

“Need any money for a start?”

Amae started, his hand with the mop slipping wetly over the floor and smacking against a table. He turned around.

“Sorry. I though you might need some new clothes or something in your new…hmm…apprenticeship?”

“It’s fine.” Amae shook his head. He turned his attention back to the dirty floor. “The Great Sage brought most of my clothes from Aliran. But thanks for the thought.”

“You might find that some people won’t appreciate you wearing tunics without pants underneath them. It’s not common here.”

“Well, alright, I’ll ask Gisela to lend me a few coins. I doubt she’ll refuse.”

“Hmm?” Wolfram raised an eyebrow, even though as Amae was keeping his gaze trained on the floor, he could not see this.

“Well, look here,” Amae said to the floor where he gave a particularly hard scrub to a puddle of dried something that he could not identify. “Your husband already sees red at the very sight of me. I don’t want any more trouble between you and him.” 

“You can be quite considerate when you want, can’t you?” Wolfram teased. 

“I’m always considerate, mind you,” Amae retorted. “To the point I get into situations like these. I think I should have just left you lying unconscious back there on Aliran. None of this would have happened.”

“Regretting your decision?”

“No. Just like wagging my tongue. Recently not many people try talking to me. Raping they do, but talking seems a bit more difficult matter.”

Wolfram sighed. “Have it your way.” He walked into the kitchen and sat down at one of the tables.

“I’ve just washed there, you know. The floor’s still wet.”

“Are you alright?” Wolfram asked, ignoring the former concubine’s complaints. He looked at the still yellowish bruise under Amae’s eye and the healing lip. It seemed that his nose was also healing well. Nonetheless, both of them knew he was not asking about flesh wounds.

Amae shrugged. “I’ll survive. I always do.”

Wolfram sighed. He put his elbows on the table and propped his head on his palm. Silently, he watched Amae working. He was not angry anymore about Amae keeping silent about his troubles – Amae simply had different views on this matter. Wolfram thought that he had probably made a mistake of subconsciously starting to treat Amae like a woman. Despite all what happened, Amae had his own pride.

“Have you been thinking about going back to Aliran or Ekara?” Wolfram asked him after a while.

“No, I haven’t. They don’t interest me at all.”

“If Faraya…”

“If he returns to either of them, I’ll stay here anyway. With His Highness’ permission, of course,” Amae made a theatrical bow with the mop in his right hand.

“Actually, with my husband’s permission.”

Amae leered at him. “Sure.” Then he returned to cleaning. “You sure have him on a short leash.”

“I think it’s the other way round,” Wolfram muttered. “His jealousy is too much lately.”

“Well, I do understand where it’s coming from,” Amae said.

“So do I. But…”

“Hyaiiiii!”

Wolfram’s head shot up at the scream which was followed by the bucket being knocked over, the dirty water squirting free. Then Wolfram’s head snapped to the kitchen door that was violently flung open, Kyota and Lakarde appearing in the doorway, looking around for the cause of the desperate scream.

“A mouse!” Amae screamed hysterically, jumping away from a small grey creature. He slipped on the flooded floor, nearly falling over, but somehow catching himself on the edge of the nearby table. “A m-mouse!” he shrieked again. “Kiiiill! Kiiiil it! Wolfraaaaam!”

Wolfram staggered at the unexpected weight as Amae suddenly flung himself at him. “Are you fucking stupid?” the blond asked, feeling Amae trying to climb up him and to his… Wolfram had no idea where Amae wanted to climb, but very likely it included his shoulders and head. He was also sure that Amae had not even heard him. 

The prince snapped his fingers, the mouse flaring up and burning to a crisp in a blink of an eye. A faint smell of smoke and burnt hair permeated the kitchen.

Giving a stunned Kyota a meaningful look, Wolfram tried to peel Amae off him. “Get off.” Amae did not even budge, his eyes fixed on the smoking piece of charcoal that used to be a mouse. Wolfram turned to see his son’s astonished, wide-eyed face. “If you don’t get off of me right away, I’ll hit you,” Wolfram warned Amae. 

Slowly, Amae’s head turned to Wolfram. His right hand let go off Wolfram’s hair. He clambered awkwardly off of Wolfram’s shoulders, lowered his legs to the floor, then tried to smooth out the blond’s clothes. Wolfram’s jacket was missing two buttons, the decorative epaulette on one shoulder torn from its seaming and hanging from its few remaining threads. Amae looked around then spotted the buttons on the wet floor. 

“Sorry about that.” 

Wolfram, Kyota and Lakarde watched him picking the buttons. 

Amae looked at the smoking corpse of the mouse again. “Just to snap my fingers…” Amae wondered after a second. “Why could I never think of that?”

“Because you are an idiot,” Wolfram snorted. “Give me the buttons!”

“Is he for real?” Kyota stuttered finally.

“I’ll sew them on for you,” Amae suggested in a guilty voice.

“Go to hell,” Wolfram refused, grabbing the buttons from Amae’s palm. Did Amae really have any pride?

“Are you even a man?” Lakarde wondered, his stare sliding up and down Amae’s tunic. He still could not comprehend how Amae dared to throw himself so shamelessly at his father.

Amae looked at the sneering boy whose eyes were glaring daggers at him. Amae could tell that this was much more serious than simple distaste. What Lakarde felt was… Unable to cope with all of this, something snapped inside Amae. He lifted his tunic. As usual, he wore no trousers underneath. “Here, look. Any other questions?”

Lakarde choked on his saliva. 

“Yes!” Wolfram snapped at Amae, instinctively covering Lakarde’s eyes with his palm. “Why the hell aren’t you wearing underwear?!”

“Don’t have any!” Amae snapped back at him hysterically. “For some reason the Great Sage’s wisdom did not reach so far as to get my underwear with the rest of my clothes, and those fucking rapists shredded the last pair I had!” he spilled in one breath.

“Alright,” Wolfram grunted, “alright! Just lower your tunic!”

With shaking hands, Amae lowered his tunic. Somewhat stumbling, he went to pick up the upended bucket. When he nearly slipped, he decided to just sit down at one of the tables and recover from shock, which had somehow caught up with him only now.

“I’ll finish the floor. Really. But in about half an hour,” he said to Wolfram’s questioning look.

“Screw that,” Wolfram muttered. “You’d better see Gisela. You look as white as snow.”

Amae said nothing. Wolfram walked over to the kettle that stood next to the burning stove. He poured a few mugs of water into it then put it onto the stove. He guessed that some tea should do nicely to calm Amae down. He had a feeling that the mouse had nothing to do with Amae’s attack of nerves. Very likely it was the outcome of everything that happened in the last couple of weeks.

“You either do something useful or go away,” Wolfram said after catching a glimpse of Kyota and Lakarde still standing in the kitchen. “Why did you come here, anyway?”

“He heard you were in the kitchen and dragged me here with him,” Lakarde motioned at Kyota. “Personally I believe that it was just an excuse to see the who-”

“Shut it,” Kyota snapped at him. 

“Watch your language!” Wolfram warned Lakarde. But he had to agree with his son’s assumption about Kyota’s motives.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Lakarde bowed his head.

Kyota grabbed Lakarde by his shoulder and started pushing him outside.

“He’s still in love with you,” Wolfram said after his son and Kyota were gone. He started rummaging through various cupboards for tea. “Or at least has the hots for you.”

“Are you an idiot?” Amae muttered, shaking his head. “That was twenty years ago for him.”

“I think it’s you two who are idiots,” Wolfram pointed out. In one of the cupboards, he found a bag with some herbs that smelled nice. He took two mugs from the table where they had been left after washing. “Feeling better?”

“Somewhat,” Amae nodded. He watched Wolfram making tea. He wondered how long it was going to take Yuuri to come here looking for his husband. Yuuri’s worried jealousy was not amusing. Besides, now there was something else that he had noticed in Yuuri’s eyes. Lakarde was another matter, something that sooner or later was going to cause a lot of trouble for Wolfram. Was Wolfram even aware of what was happening right under his nose?

Amae sighed. He took the mug Wolfram had held out for him. “Lakarde was quite a blow to Yuuri, wasn’t he?”

Wolfram looked at him in surprise. “Well, the idea itself was very upsetting,” he said after a pause. “We nearly broke up. In the end it somehow worked out. And after Lakarde was born… Yuuri loves Lakarde.”

Amae nodded. He blew on his tea then took a sip. “Lakarde…” he trailed off. “What does he think of Yuuri?” 

“Hmm?” Wolfram wondered. What Lakarde thought of Yuuri? What could Lakarde think about Yuuri? He suddenly realized that he had no idea. “Well…” he drawled. “He respects and listens to Yuuri.”

Amae looked at Wolfram sideways. Deciding to just leave it, he sipped his tea. “Faraya had a daughter,” Amae said after swallowing. “You know that woman who was pregnant?”

It took a few seconds for Wolfram to remember. “Yes,” he nodded. “Had?” 

Amae nodded again. “Faraya took the woman with him. She died while giving birth. The baby was premature and always sickly. She lived for two years with constant care, but that was not enough.”

“Oh.”

“I tried to save her. I was the only one able to use healing magic.” Amae gave a long sigh. “She had underdeveloped lungs. I was amazed she survived that long, although I never stopped wondering if that constantly wheezing and coughing child would be better off dead.

“I think it was after she died Faraya decided to get revenge and take his planet back. We went to Aliran, and he sided with that dimwitted Nuuos and…”

“I think this is what you should be saying tomorrow in court,” Wolfram cut him off.

Amae gave Wolfram a long stare. “I know what you are thinking, Wolfram. Don’t do it. I beg you, don’t do it.”

Wolfram stood up, taking his steaming mug with him. “Make sure you wash the damn floor,” he said over his shoulder before leaving the kitchen.

XXXXX

“Wolfram,” Yuuri said, leaning over to place a light kiss on the blond’s temple while the prince was drinking tea. Yuuri frowned lightly – just as he suspected, he could smell a faint scent of the kitchen preserved in the blond’s thick hair. “You smell of food,” Yuuri said, walking over to the wardrobe, unbuttoning his jacket and sliding it off his shoulders.

“It’s because I was in the kitchen,” Wolfram said, understanding perfectly well what Yuuri was trying to do. “I went to ask Amae whether he needed anything.”

“And?” Yuuri asked conversationally, hanging his jacket on the wardrobe hook.

“He needs, but he said that he didn’t. And he had nearly knocked me over after seeing a mouse. He’s afraid of them,” he explained after Yuuri gave him a blank look. “Kyota and Lakarde were also there.”

“Kept you company?” Yuuri guessed, walking up to his husband.

“No. I gather Kyota wanted to see him and dragged Lakarde with him.”

Yuuri blinked at him. “You think he still…?” 

Wolfram shrugged. He sipped his tea then lowered the mug down to the table.

“What in the world is so great about that man?!” Yuuri threw up his hands in disbelief.

“Well…” Holding up one hand, Wolfram bent down his index finger. “First, he’s got a great body.” He bent another finger. “Second, his face is quite pretty. Third, did I mention the body?” He burst out laughing at Yuuri’s raised eyebrows. “Teasing, just teasing,” he chuckled, lowering his hand. He reached out for Yuuri who let himself be pulled over. Yuuri leaned down and they shared a short kiss.

Yuuri straightened but then Wolfram tugged again. Yuuri had to quickly arrange his body, so that instead of flopping onto Wolfram and smacking his head against the blond’s chest, he could neatly slide onto his lap. He let out his startled breath in a huff.

Wolfram’s arms wrapped around Yuuri and he held on tightly.

“What?” Yuuri asked softly. “Stressed about tomorrow’s trial?”

“Mmm…” Wolfram hummed, rubbing his face against Yuuri’s shirt instead of answering. 

“I think it’s already clear how it will end,” Yuuri said, wondering how far he should push this.

Wolfram nuzzled his face against Yuuri again. He could also guess how it might end. A penalty of quite a few years in a dungeon was the most believable option. He knew Yuuri would press for that. And then, if after leaving the dungeon, Faraya tried to revolt again, he would be executed. There was no doubt about that.

Yuuri raised his hand to stroke the blond hair. “What’s eating you?”

Wolfram fingered one of Yuuri’s shirt buttons. “Nothing. I’m just tired and sleepy.”

Yuuri petted Wolfram’s hair in silence. “Want me to give you a massage?” he asked a minute later.

“Mhm,” Wolfram nodded. It wasn’t probably what he needed right now, but Yuuri’s suggestion was too tempting to refuse.

Yuuri slid off Wolfram’s lap and headed in the direction of the bedroom. Wolfram unhooked his jacket off the armchair he had tossed it on earlier and followed Yuuri. Once in the bedroom, he put it neatly onto a chair near the bed then started unbuttoning his shirt.

Only in his underwear, Wolfram slid into the bed. Awaiting the massage, he turned onto his stomach. Yuuri, carrying a bottle of lotion in his hands, approached. He was also wearing only his boxers. He climbed into the bed and straddled his husband’s waist. Carefully, he poured a small amount of the lotion onto his left palm, pushed the bottle away then started rubbing his hands together to warm his hand and the lotion up.

“Mmm… This is really good,” Wolfram purred when Yuuri’s hands started sliding up and down his back. He was glad Yuuri had once showed interest and Gisela taught him how to do it.

Yuuri’s hands glided over the pale skin, then concentrated on Wolfram’s upper back to knead and rub there. Wolfram sighed in bliss. The firm pressure of Yuuri’s warm hands on his back felt soothing. A few minutes later he felt the pressure decreasing, his husband now massaging his back in slow circles. His body felt completely relaxed and the world around him did not seem that real anymore.

“…ve you...” Wolfram mumbled before dozing off.

Yuuri continued massaging the prince for a minute then slid off his hips carefully. Wolfram shifted but stayed asleep. Yuuri covered him with a blanket. He watched Wolfram for some time.

“I love you, too, Wolfram,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Just don’t do anything reckless, alright?” he added softly. “It would be very problematic.”

XXXXX

Despite there being about a hundred people present, the huge hall seemed half-empty. There were people from all four worlds present: Nuuos Astar, the ruler of Aliran; Shori Shibuya, the ruler of Earth; Faraya, the former ruler of Ekara; representatives from the noble families of Shin Makoku and mingle mangle of witnesses from all worlds. Everyone was looking around the hall, taking in all the faces, and talking – it was not every day one could see so many important people.

From the back-row in the hall, where he was hunched on one of the benches with the other witnesses, Amae took a look at Faraya who was sitting at the table at the end of the hall with guards surrounding him. Faraya was wearing a large white woolen shirt, black trousers and his usual well-worn boots. He was freshly shaved, his longish hair somewhat messy, a few strands falling onto his forehead. Despite the questionable details in his appearance, Faraya looked regal. His huge, muscular build, raven-black hair somewhat grizzled at the temples, wide face and sharp and penetrating eyes, his calm and self-assured aura made it look as if the entire hall belonged to him.

Amae’s eyes left Faraya to take a look around. There was still some fifteen or twenty minutes until the trial began. Neither Wolfram nor Yuuri was present yet. Amae lowered his head and continued chewing on his lower lip. 

The door creaked again, and followed by a handful of bodyguards, the Prince Consort entered the hall. The conversations ceased abruptly, people hushing. Their heads followed the prince through the hall until he stopped in front of Faraya.

“Your Majesty,” Wolfram bowed, his eyes burning resolutely.

Faraya’s eyebrows rose. “Your Highness?”

“During my stay on Ekara and then on Aliran, I was confined against my will. The actions that were performed by Your Majesty insulted my honor,” Wolfram said clearly for the people around the room to hear. “There is one thing that could remove the stain from it – it is Your Majesty’s blood,” he declared. “I am challenging Your Majesty. No elements – a neat and clean swordfight. Right here and right now.”

Silence reigned in the hall after the prince’s words. 

Faraya sat still, looking at Wolfram, then, slowly, his lips were tugged into a grin. “Very well,” he nodded. “I accept your challenge.” He stood up.

Gunter regained his composure first. He stuttered, “Your Highness! I beg to differ!”

Prince Consort gave him a look which made Gunter close his mouth. Gunter’s eyes quickly found Gwendal. Gwendal was frowning and looked troubled, but said nothing. Wolfram’s rank was second only to that of the King’s of Shin Makoku. He had no power to give Wolfram commands. Also Gwendal was not sure that he needed to interfere. If Wolfram wanted Faraya dead, then maybe he had a good reason and Faraya was really better off dead. But Gwendal was worried that Wolfram might find it impossible to achieve.

With his head, Wolfram indicated for one of his bodyguards to pass his sword over to Faraya. After that, the prince walked out to the middle of the hall. He unsheathed his sword and stood there, waiting for Faraya. He had already mentally shut out everyone else in the hall.

His sword in his hand, Faraya approached the prince. They stood facing each other motionlessly, then Faraya stepped forward. Wolfram retreated, starting to circle him. Faraya suddenly made a deceptive move, pretending he was about to swerve left and aim at Wolfram’s side. Wolfram’s sword got ready to parry Faraya’s, but the king struck straight. Wolfram jumped backwards, just in time to avoid Faraya’s sword skewering him. He parried the next attack, directing Faraya’s sword away from his neck. His left foot caught Faraya in the gut, tossing him onto the tiles on his side.

Wolfram moved forward, but had to retreat as Faraya’s sword swept just above the floor, nearly taking his feet off. With this, Faraya won those few precious seconds that were needed for him to roll over and jump to his feet. He had suffered no damage as his abdominal muscles absorbed most of the kick.

They started circling each other again. This time Wolfram was the first to attack. He struck for Faraya’s side. His sword was blocked, but then, instead of resisting the pressure Faraya was placing on his sword, he suddenly whirled to the side and slipped around the other man. His sword jarred against Faraya’s and then unexpectedly was not there anymore. It, just as Wolfram, was behind Faraya slashing at the back of the neck that had been there half a second ago.

Faraya had flung himself forward, onto his hands, his foot shooting out to kick at the blond’s legs. Wolfram lost his footing. He rolled barely having the time to avoid Faraya’s awkwardly handled slash that grazed the side of Wolfram’s uniform. Despite coming from an uncomfortable angle, if it had been a fraction of a second faster, it would have left Wolfram with a quite serious wound.

Wolfram rolled again, getting to his feet. Their swords clashed, sparks flying and the two of them found themselves trying to drive each other back. Faraya was much bulkier than Wolfram and despite being a full-blooded Mazoku, Wolfram was reminded that Faraya was stronger than him. Whether that was because of his bigger build or the exceptional soul that inhabited it, Wolfram didn’t know, he only knew that now Faraya was pushing him back, his back nearing the wall. Much longer and his wrist would start breaking under the pressure. 

Faraya grunted in surprise as the resistance was suddenly gone, Wolfram dropping to the ground, onto his side. Immediately, Faraya took his chance to strike at the exposed body.

Faraya pulled his blade out of the crack in the titles where he had just struck, aiming for Wolfram. He watched Wolfram rolling again and getting to his feet.

“You are still very good at wriggling your way out of tight spots,” Faraya remarked, holding his sword in front of him, motioning with his left hand for Wolfram to come closer. “I see you did not keep that nice body of yours idle.” He had realized that despite having more strength than the blond, Wolfram’s reactions were faster. Not only that, it seemed that the blond was even a better swordsman than he was. Getting Wolfram angry so that he stopped thinking and struck out blindly would be more likely to succeed than trying to cut him straight away.

Wolfram ducked the blade that zipped above his head. He struck at Faraya’s stomach, taking a few buttons off, making Faraya’s back make an impossible arch. Wolfram swept forward again, his sword slashing at the king’s left side, leaving an open cut in his shirt which flapped open, revealing a streak of blood that ran down to Faraya’s leg. The white shirt started absorbing the blood, turning red.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Faraya did not feel much pain. Wolfram was circling him again, and he had no time to check how badly he was wounded. 

Wolfram was resolute, his mind set to a very concrete task – to find a flaw in Faraya’s defense. Now, as his enemy was weakened, he could take this into account. He could simply circle and tire Faraya out until he weakened from the loss of blood. But Wolfram needed to end this fast. 

Faraya parried Wolfram’s next attack and not letting their swords interlock, the blond jumped back. Faraya came at him, striking high, somewhere at his chest. Wolfram had guessed the move and crouched down, the king completely missing. Wolfram’s blade swished through the air in a back-hand slash, cutting into the king’s stomach. Faraya started falling forward onto Wolfram. The prince stepped away, letting the body fold itself up toppling onto the tiles. Then, without any hesitation, in one strike, he took off Faraya’s head neatly. 

Panting, Wolfram stood looking down at the headless body. He brushed the sweat off his forehead, then his head snapped to the side from where a sudden scream came. He blocked Amae’s sword easily, the blades gnashing. Wolfram’s second, now offensive stroke, knocked the sword out of the concubine’s hand, sending it spinning through the air where it clattered onto the floor, near the first rows, snapping the stunned audience out of their stupor, making people rise and scatter away.

Screaming, Amae attacked Wolfram with his bare fists. Wolfram moved his blade aside so that the concubine didn’t accidentally skewer himself on it. Amae dropped to the ground like a felled tree as Wolfram backhanded him heavily.

From the unconscious concubine, Wolfram’s head turned to look at a small bead of glittering blue light that emerged from Faraya’s dead body. The ruler’s soul. Wolfram shifted his sword to rest trapped between his elbow and his side and stepped forward to catch the bluish transparent ball between his palms. It felt warm.

Wolfram looked around for a container. He spotted a vase with flowers on the desk Faraya had been sitting at. He quickly dumped the water and the flowers onto the floor and put the soul into the vase and covered it with a bunch of documents that had been lying on the desk, then took his bloodied sword back into his hand.

A hallow thump echoed through the room and Wolfram’s gaze swiveled around to look at the heavy wooden door where his husband had appeared. Yuuri’s facial expression was priceless. It would have been funny if it had not been blood-chilling. Yuuri was staring at him with those dark eyes of his wide in disbelief.

“W-what… What the hell…?!” Yuuri pointed at Faraya’s headless body with a shaking hand. Then his gaze fell upon the unconscious concubine. “What the fuck have you done, Wolfram?!” he screamed. “What the hell?! Why are both of them dead?!”

Unconsciously, Wolfram weighed the sword in his hand. “Amae is alive. I just knocked him out,” he said. He almost stepped back at the intensity in Yuuri’s dark eyes.

“Wolfram…” the king hissed. “Explanation! NOW!”

Wolfram’s emerald eyes flashed as he stared into the dark eyes of his king and husband. “You’re still a wimp, Yuuri,” the blond said. “But that’s okay. You have me to do your dirty work for you.”

Yuuri’s face turned red in fury. His whole frame was shaking. “Arrest him!” he snapped at his bodyguards. “Take him to the dungeon and put him in a cell. NOW!”

“Your Majesty…” Arachi hesitated, unsure, his eyes swiveling towards Wolfram, then settling back on Yuuri.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?!” the king roared at him.

Arachi bowed quickly. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He and other bodyguards hurried over to the Prince Consort. 

“Your Highness, the sword,” Arachi requested when he approached Wolfram.

Throwing a flashing glance at the men who now stood to his left and his right, Wolfram took two quick steps forward, shifting his sword so that he now held it by the blade, near the hilt. Stopping directly in front of Yuuri, he lifted the enraged king’s right hand and slapped the sword’s hilt into the dark haired man’s palm. The sound echoed through the chamber.

Their eyes locked, the blond curled Yuuri’s fingers closed, leaving the king holding the sword, the occasional blood drop still falling from its tip. Then, without a word, he stepped past his husband and followed by the guards, disappeared down the corridor, leaving Yuuri the center of a world that consisted of two unmoving bodies on the floor, a wide eyed and stunned crowd and Wolfram’s blood stained sword.

XXXXX

He had hardly eaten the last couple of days. Arachi had visited with him a few times while bringing him meals, but he could not force himself to swallow more than a few bites.

Amae shifted on his wooden bunk, trying to wrap himself into a ragged cloth to get some warmth. It was late autumn and the barred vent near the ceiling offered only chilling wind gusts. The stone walls emanated the growing cold. It was dark and humid in the cell. He had been held here for two days already. 

Amae was not even sure what had happened. He only knew that he had awakened in this cell with the worst headache ever. He had been able to remember vague fractures of images which seemed like some morbid nightmare. He had not even been sure whether Faraya was dead. His memories lacked clarity. He wasn’t sure what he was locked up for. Arachi had been the one to tell him that he had been accused of treason and an attempt on the Prince Consort’s life. 

Amae found it funny because, on the first day, he had been able to hear Wolfram in the neighboring cell. He had been giving hell to one of his servants and seemed to be extremely lively. Although, today, early in the morning, Wolfram had been taken away. It made Amae wonder whether Wolfram had been taken to be forgiven or punished. Whatever the case, Wolfram did not come back to his cell.

Arachi was also the one to tell Amae that Faraya was dead. Actually, Amae did not know how to react. He did not feel sad enough to cry or be upset. In fact, he did not feel much of anything. He just felt burnt-out. And cold.

The former concubine had thought very hard and long, and he could not remember ever attacking Wolfram. He knew that, considering the circumstances at the time, he might have, and he probably had. Arachi said that he had done it with a sword. Amae had no idea why he would do that – to go against Wolfram with a sword was stupid. Why a sword, if he was much better with his water element?

Now he was not able to use it. Yuuri had rendered him helpless. Faraya was dead, so he was not able to use the fire element either. The future looked bleak. 

XXXXX

The former concubine was as pale as snow, Kyota noticed. His hair was a mess, his tunic dirty. Following along in the procession almost mechanically, the former concubine was staring at the back of the heels of the man walking in front of him. There were two guards at his sides, but it looked that instead of preventing him from escaping, they were more needed for steadying him. 

The procession, in front of whose six men were carrying Faraya’s body, finally reached the plaza of the God of War temple. In the middle of it there was a readied pyre of firewood. 

The body was lifted, then laid down onto the arranged planks above the firewood. After a few words from the priest, the wood was set on fire. It caught easily, white puffs of smoke appearing. The wind teased them lazily, then lifted and carried the smoke over the square and further into the town. As the fire started licking the planks and then the body, the smoke turned darker, the smell of charred meat filling the air.

Kyota’s eyes set on the former concubine who suddenly swayed. With a soft thud, Amae collapsed on the tiles of the plaza. The unconscious man lay there while the guards were looking at him in silence. Kyota’s hands were flexing and unflexing unconsciously. Kyota stepped forward but Yuuri’s heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder holding him in place. 

“Don’t be stupid.”

With a motion of his head, the king indicated for the guards to pick Amae up.

XXXXX

Irritated, Yuuri was leafing through the documents. He was alone in his study, in his usual chair, the room already dark, a few lamps burning on the table and the ceiling. He had taken care of Faraya’s funeral, now he had to take care of his husband.

Wolfram had challenged Faraya to fair combat, but it had been against his orders. The king’s wish had been to judge Faraya for his deeds. Wolfram had deliberately disregarded that. Disobeying the king’s orders was punishable with death. Of course, Yuuri was not going to kill his own husband. Nonetheless, forgiveness was out of the question. Yuuri was angry and, in addition, everyone in three kingdoms expected the Prince Consort to be punished.

Gunter, who had been ordered to gather the documents concerned with the incident and possible solutions, yesterday brought him a book full of transcriptions of old laws and acts. There were about ten ways to disobey the wishes of a king/husband: for being unfaithful, the spouse would lose his/her head; For stealing or spending more money than allowed he/she would be locked in a tower or cell for a few months or years...depending on the amount of money missing; For having an illegitimate child the spouse would also lose his/her head. The mother or father of the child would be also killed, and the child would be left at the nearest orphanage without any rights; For various excuses and for tampering with the king’s patience, the husband or wife would be flogged; For hurting their children or for fostering them ignorantly, the spouse would be locked up in a cell for a few days; Treason was punished with the gallows in the middle of the castle yard for everyone to see; For being negligent to his/her duties (it was not explained what those entailed), the spouse would be locked up for a few days in a cell.

After thinking for a moment, Yuuri returned to the page with a thorough description of flogging.

TBC


	20. Part 20

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 20

Wolfram was sitting on the royal bed and staring at the door. He was tired of waiting and bored out of his mind. This was the second day he had been locked up in the royal chambers. “Locked up” was probably not the right way to phrase it. The doors were not locked, but there were two guards outside the door to prevent him from wandering out of the rooms.

He had spent a day in the dungeon. Then Yuuri’s anger had cooled and he had been brought back into their chambers. Even Lakarde was not allowed to see him. Wolfram presumed that, after this, his son was going to like Yuuri even less.

Wolfram stood up as the door opened and Yuuri entered their bedroom. Wolfram started fidgeting with his hands, when after coming in and closing the door, his husband silently stared at him so long that Wolfram wanted to sink straight through the floor and disappear.

“What?” Wolfram muttered.

Yuuri shook his head. “Nothing much. I have come to a decision about what to do with you.” He opened the door and motioned for the blond to follow him into the living-room.

Wolfram seated himself into an armchair. Yuuri crossed the room to get to the cupboard that held a huge collection of strong drinks. He took out one of the bottles that had an unusual form.

“Want some?” he raised the bottle for the blond to see.

Wolfram nodded. He watched his husband opening the door on the other side of the cupboard and getting the glasses. Yuuri put them on the cupboard and started uncorking the bottle. After some struggle, he filled the glasses with clear white liquid. He corked the bottle again then took the glasses with him and walked over to Wolfram. He held out one for him, then sat down in a chair next to Wolfram. He clinked his glass with the blond’s then took a sip.

“You’ll be flogged with twenty-five strokes,” he informed Wolfram after swallowing the wine.

Wolfram’s eyes widened then he raised his glass to take a sip. He had already accepted the thought of punishment earlier, but this was… His lips pressed into a thin line.

“The entire process will be witnessed by a few representatives from Shin Makoku, Ekara and Aliran. I thought about Gunter and Murata.”

“What about you?” Wolfram asked, his voice dripping with something black. “Won’t you watch?”

Yuuri’s stormy eyes bore into the blond’s. “Don’t test my patience, Wolfram!” he hissed.

The prince lowered his eyes and silently sipped his wine. Yuuri had been about to hit him. He was already regretting his words, but it was too late.

“Do you think I liked spending the entire day looking for a way to punish my own husband?!” Yuuri exploded. “Do you think I want you to be flogged? Or do you think I’ll experience some sick pleasure from it?!” he stared at Wolfram, his eyes filled with hurt and anger. “What the…?”

“Enough, Yuuri,” Wolfram said, lowering his glass onto the table. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to say that!” he said, leaning forward, grabbing Yuuri by his arms, nearly making him spill his wine. Wolfram looked at his husband with a pleading expression on his face. “I…”

“Damn it, Wolfram,” Yuuri muttered, freeing his arms. He put his glass down then embraced his husband, his anger seeping away. He could never stay angry with Wolfram for long. “Why does it always have to be like this?” Yuuri sighed. “Why the hell do you have to be so stubborn?” 

Wolfram said nothing, only pressed his lips to Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri sighed. He pushed Wolfram away and stood up.

“Get familiar with the protocol,” he told Wolfram. “The punishment will be delivered a day after tomorrow, at three o’clock in the afternoon.” Yuuri lifted his glass to empty it. “Where you killed Faraya,” he finished, lowering the glass. He started filling it again.

Wolfram watched him then leaned back into the chair while his hands rested on the table.

“I’ll do that,” he nodded. “Pour me some,” he pushed the glass over the table noisily.

“You know,” Yuuri said, filling his husband’s glass, “Faraya once called you a dove-eyed nightmare. He said I should control you better.” He sat down again.

Wolfram said nothing to that. He took the filled glass. 

“He said many things, that Faraya,” Yuuri muttered, watching the blond over the top of his glass. He did not miss a light tremor in the hand holding the glass.

“Who cares?” Wolfram shrugged. “He should have paid more attention to his own blue-eyed monster.”

Yuuri gave a soft chuckle. “Amae sure gave him a pleasant surprise.” He rolled the glass between his hands. “Amae was his downfall. And I sometimes wonder whether you’ll be mine.”

“You know I’ll never betray you.”

“So you say,” Yuuri took another sip. “So you say, my love,” he repeated. He tilted his head backwards to stare at the ceiling.

Wolfram watched him but said nothing. He was surprised and suspicious as to why Yuuri had not demanded to know why he had killed Faraya. Yuuri simply never asked him.

“So what’s happening with Amae now?” Wolfram asked.

Yuuri rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “The fuck I care,” he spat angrily. He felt like he was getting drunk. He liked the feeling. “Do whatever you wish with him,” he conceded a minute later.

Wolfram turned his head to the ceiling and stared at the same spot as Yuuri. Recently his husband had been cursing a lot.

“I heard he wasn’t doing very well,” Yuuri sighed as the silence stretched. “He lost consciousness during Faraya’s funeral. Just dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.”

“Hmm…”

“The bastard tried to kill you. I don’t get why you are worried over him.” Ruffling through his hair, Yuuri lowered his head. He reached over the table to pick up the bottle. “I was told he did not remember a thing, though. He just lies there and refuses to eat,” he said, filling his glass. “I’m not sure whether it’s a hunger strike or just…”

“Well…” Wolfram drawled, pushing his glass over for Yuuri to fill it. “He didn’t look very sane at the time. He doesn’t even know how to use a sword. It would have been more sensible if he had tried to attack me with his water element.”

“You think he has lost it?” Yuuri wondered.

“Nah,” Wolfram shook his head. “Doubt it. He just has that tendency to go cuckoo more frequently than other people. It’s just how he was able to survive until now.”

“Lakarde is not going to like this,” Yuuri stated, changing the topic. That was mildly said. Lakarde was going to try to kill him for this. Lakarde had a very clear idea of what was allowed to happen to his father and himself.

Wolfram put his glass down and rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. Lakarde was going to flip out. He knew his son well enough to know that much.

“More wine,” Wolfram demanded a minute later.

XXXXX

It was dark and cold in the cell, and Wolfram shivered. The lump on the bunk was lying listlessly. The blond walked over to it and tugged at the ragged cover Amae had wrapped himself into. The lump on the bunk did not even move. Wolfram sat down the bunk.

Amae’s bleary eyes opened as the prince shook him quite forcefully, then they snapped wide open to concentrate on Wolfram’s face. Hate and pain washed over them. Wolfram braced himself as the younger male sat up abruptly. He caught Amae’s wrists easily before he could hit him and pressed his weakened body back into the bunk. Hissing in anger, the former concubine struggled, but it was to no avail. Amae did not give up and tried to kick the prince off him, but then the blond overlay him with his body, cutting off any movements.

“Let go! Let go, you bastard!” Amae panted out, furious.

The desperation rising in his efforts, Amae wriggled to try and get himself free. Despite his efforts, he did not manage to even move Wolfram. A minute later, he just slumped in defeat.

“I was told that you refuse to eat and do nothing except sleep,” Wolfram said, letting go of the younger man’s wrists, getting off of Amae and sitting up on the edge of the bunk again. Red angry marks could be seen on them. 

Rubbing his wrists, Amae snarled at him angrily. 

“Will you stop that, Amae?” Wolfram spat in annoyance as Amae threw himself at him again. He pushed the former concubine back into the bunk where he sagged down, his body shaking with angry sobbing.

Wolfram watched the weeping man, then patted him awkwardly on his shoulder. That only induced Amae’s sobs to become louder.

“Why? Why did you have to kill him?” Amae wailed.

“You know why.”

“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch!” Amae smacked at Wolfram’s hands. “Don’t touch me!”

Ignoring Amae’s protests, Wolfram hefted him up, leaning him against his body. Amae struggled for a few seconds, then slumped down again and continued sobbing. 

Several minutes later, the uncontrollable sobs started lessening. Now Amae was just sniffling pitifully, his forehead resting on Wolfram’s shoulder. Amae’s tunic was dirty, his hair entangled and messy. Wolfram scrunched up his nose.

“What? Where…?” Amae gasped out as Wolfram stood and then suddenly heaved him up off the bunk.

“You could use a bath and a good meal.”

Amae opened his mouth to protest but then closed it again. He wiped at his face with a piece of the tattered cover that he was still half-wrapped into. Still sniffling, he let himself be carried. He felt much better now after crying. After Faraya’s death he had not shed a tear, was not able to for some reason. Now, after letting it all out, he felt much better. 

Wolfram killed the man he loved. And yet, he could not hate Wolfram. There was just an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

“I can walk, moron,” Amae sniffled out when Wolfram carried him out into the corridor and started climbing the stairs leading out of the dungeon. The guards that they were passing were giving them astonished looks.

“Yes, you probably can,” Wolfram agreed. “You could also try to hit me again or slip and roll off the stairs.”

“The first, I’d definitely choose the first,” Amae nodded. “And then the second would just happen to me naturally, right?”

Grinning, Wolfram had to agree. Huffing, he carried the former concubine upstairs. Once outside the dungeon, on a sandy path, he stopped and leaned against the outer dungeon wall. He let Amae slide out of his arms and to his wobbly bare feet. Amae shivered in the chilly wind. The winter was going to come soon. He was not used to cold weather at all.

“You are really heavy,” Wolfram complained. The exercise while carrying the man left him insensitive to the cold wind.

“Well, I’m way taller than you, after all,” Amae said matter-of-factly, pointing at Wolfram’s forehead. “Ha!”

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Your toenails have grown long.” Satisfied, he watched Amae blush then stare at his feet with horror-stricken eyes and shuffle his dirty feet on the rough path.

“I can’t help that, can I?” Amae glared at him.

“Your hair is all greasy and matted,” Wolfram grinned.

Without thinking, Amae tried to kick him in the leg, but got his boot instead. “Ouch, ouch!” he grabbed at his injured foot while Wolfram did not seem affected at all. He glared at Wolfram again. “My feet are freezing!” he complained. “How long are you going to make me stand here? Carry me!” he demanded, holding his hands out. “Right to the baths!”

Wolfram sighed, “I pity the man who ever marries you.” He hefted Amae up again and carried him towards the entrance to the castle.

OoOoOo_Two days later_oOoOoO

He had expected to find the blond in the royal bedroom, but Wolfram was lying on the sofa in the living-room. Kyota figured that it made sense – Yuuri was the one to punish him, so Wolfram probably was reluctant to get into their bed where he could smell Yuuri all over it. He knew Wolfram thought he had deserved the punishment, and he probably did but, instinctively, Wolfram would keep himself away from Yuuri at least for a few days. It had a lot to do with one’s element.

The prince had not heard him enter. Wolfram was lying on his stomach, his head turned to the side and he seemed to be dozing lightly. A light white sheet was drawn over his back.

“Wolfram?”

“Mhm?” came the drowsy response.

The blond head turned and Kyota realized that Wolfram was on drugs. The usually clear eyes were hooded, a muzzy emerald. Kyota sighed. He approached Wolfram and lifted the sheet off his back. Wolfram winced lightly as the sheet was stuck to the various ointments covering his back, but didn’t protest Kyota’s actions. 

“Hell,” Kyota muttered, “it’s worse than I imagined it would be.” The swollen angry welts were strewn all over the blond’s back and shoulders. The usually pale and delicate skin was reddish and tumid. In some places the skin was cut and the welts were still exuding lymph mixed with some blood.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, lowering the sheet carefully.

“Not really,” Wolfram muttered. “I don’t know what Gisela gave me, but I can hardly feel anything at all. I’m very sleepy, though.”

Kyota looked around and noticed a packet lying on the nearby table. Curious, he took it. “It’s really not from Shin Makoku,” he said after fishing out a piece of shiny paper with white pills enclosed in it. “I am sure that it was your brother-in-law who brought these for you.”

“Yeah, must have been Shori,” Wolfram muttered, agreeing. “He seemed quite worried.”

Kyota rolled the packet between his fingers once again, then put it back onto the table. “I think he knows.”

Wolfram’s eyes blinked slowly. “He does,” he nodded. “He figured it all out back then, twenty years ago.”

Kyota stayed silent for a few moments then shrugged. “You know, to me it always seemed that he is much better at reading you than your husband is.”

“What the hell are you implying here?” Wolfram snorted at him. “That I should have married Shori or something?”

Kyota ruffled through his hair. “Well, okay. I’m saying that Yuuri is an idiot. Anyone, by this time, would have figured out what happened between Faraya and you. I mean when one adds all the facts… Like you being kidnapped and kept in his palace and you for some reason bringing over a concubine and then waging war and hating Faraya mindlessly… You killing him... Anyone who knows you knows that you would never do something like this needlessly. It’s obvious, Wolfram. Anyone with at least a grain of sense understands why you did that. The Great Sage, your brothers – they all know.” 

Wolfram closed his eyes again. “Shit.”

“Nobody will say anything to Yuuri – it’s between you two,” Kyota continued. “Unless he hears some rumors flying about, but that’s hardly possible, because now everybody will be afraid to open their mouths. But in case Yuuri tries to push you even after this, you can be sure that you’ll have a firm support group.”

Wolfram sighed. “He won’t, Kyota. Despite being dense in some matters, he’s my husband and he loves me. I think he was flinching with every blow I took. It hurt him more than me. I don’t think he’s even angry anymore. It’s just more embarrassing than anything. I feel guilty for making him go through this.”

Kyota was silent at first, then let out a long sigh. He had been present at the scene, too. Had seen it all – from Wolfram taking his shirt off and facing the wall to the first and last slash on the blond’s back. 

“You think I don’t know that?” Kyota shrugged. “He looked as if he was on the verge of tears while sitting there. I just think…” he trailed off. He watched the drowsy blond. “I think he knows, Wolfram. I think he knows and is angry not because you killed Faraya. I think he’s angry because you never told him and tried to deal with this on your own while excluding him.”

Wolfram was staring at his friend with big eyes.

“I don’t know about other people, but, believe me, I’d also be pissed off,” Kyota confirmed. “Just as Yuuri is. You…why the hell are you lying to him all the time? You know how he loves you and he has forgiven you things other people never would. And you still…”

“I don’t want him to ever know.”

Kyota sighed. “It was fine before. But why the hell are you keeping silent now? Is it so fucking difficult to just say: You know, Yuuri, I killed the bastard because he…”

“Will you fucking shut up?!” Wolfram yelled at him. “I don’t want him to know! Never! Never ever!”

“Alright, alright!” Kyota tried to calm him down. “It was just friendly advice. Don’t go hysterical on me!”

Wolfram glared at him but then his gaze softened and became bleary yet again, the drug taking over. “I’m not hysterical,” he spat.

Kyota let it pass. Very likely it was just the influence of the drug. “Why did you let Amae watch?” the blue-haired man asked, then.

“I owed him. Besides, he seemed ecstatic at the idea. I thought it might console him.”

Kyota rolled his eyes. “He left halfway through. From what I saw, he felt sick.”

XXXXX

Lakarde was sitting at the table and sipping his tea. Only the burning of his eyes revealed that under that composed posture, a volcano was ready to erupt. 

“Father?” Lakarde started softly, his voice perfectly controlled.

“Mm?” Wolfram raised his head. He was sitting opposite the table, reading a few documents. He was sitting with his back straight, not touching the back of the chair. Two days had passed since the punishment, and, if he was careful with his back, he was able to deal with most of his daily tasks. “What is it?”

Lakarde’s lips twitched. He knew his father was not going to like this. Despite that, he could not keep silent. He lowered his mug to the table.

“How could he do this to you? You are his husband!” he spat.

With his right eyebrow raised, Wolfram looked at his son. “We are married, true enough. But more to the point, he is my king. And I disobeyed him. He had every right to have me executed.”

“Father, I’m not stupid!” Lakarde screamed at him across the table. “Anyone can understand why you killed the fucker! And Yuuri is your husband, for fuck’s sake! He, himself, should have defended your honor!” Lakarde hissed with his fists clenched. “How can he…? What the fuck is wrong with your relationship?!”

“Lakarde, you…” Wolfram trailed off as his son jumped from his seat, marched out the door and slammed it shut, leaving him alone in the room. Wolfram sighed.

Infuriated, Lakarde stormed down the corridor. Yuuri was a freak! How in the world could he be such a hypocrite?!

Amae chose that unfortunate moment to step out into the corridor Lakarde was marching past. Lakarde halted and turned around.

“It’s your fault!” Lakarde accused the former concubine. “Now what? You are going to visit him like a good buddy? You who tried to kill him?” Lakarde hissed at the man who had approached. “You damn whore! Freak of nature! How the fuck could you love that rapist?! Damn, serves him right to have his head lopped off! And now what? You plan on getting into Wolfram’s pants?”

“How the fuck is it my fault and who do you think you are to talk to me like that?” Amae leaned forward, his tall body towering over the boy. “Brat, do you think you have any right to tell me anything?” Amae’s voice lowered to a soft but dangerous hum. “You with a father’s complex? You who still haven’t stepped out of your swaddling-clothes and still are at the stage of “when I grow up I’ll marry my daddy”…? Do you think you have any right to say anything to me?”

Lakarde’s face was one big horror. But it cleared off quickly. Lakarde’s eyes narrowed. Amae had made a mistake. Lakarde, just as he had, had come to terms with who he was a long time ago.

“It’s about damn time someone taught you a lesson, you damn whore! You only care about the size and a good fuck, don’t you? Don’t even think of laying your hands on my father!” Lakarde hissed, suddenly pushing at Amae’s chest, his right foot shooting out to trip him.

In a fraction of a second, Amae felt himself being turned around, his chest hitting the floor painfully, his right hand being trussed up painfully. “Let go!” Amae was afraid and infuriated with himself that some kid was able to overcome him so easily.

“Why are you squirming around so much? Take it like the good whore you are!” Lakarde hissed, his free hand grabbing Amae’s underwear under the tunic.

“What the fuck are you doing, brat?!” Amae yelled. “Let go of me this instant!”

“Lakarde!”

Lakarde’s head snapped back as he was grabbed by his hair and pulled off Amae. A punch to the boy’s face made him hit the wall behind him. Gathering himself and wiping his bleeding lip, Lakarde stared up at Kyota.

“Bastard,” Lakarde said, licking a trickle of blood off his fingers. “People can get beheaded for things like this, don’t you know?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” the blue-haired male yelled at him.

Lakarde shrugged. He started getting up from the floor. “None of your fucking business. In any case, I don’t think the whore would have minded it,” with his chin he pointed at bewildered Amae who had also got up from the floor. Lakarde spat the blood out of his mouth. “Two idiots,” he muttered before going away.

“That kid…” Kyota hissed at Lakarde’s retreating back. “I think I’ll have to talk to Wolfram about him after all.”

Amae combed his hair with his fingers to get it in order. “Never mind. He’ll grow out of it.”

“What the heck are you talking about?” Kyota spat. “He nearly raped you!”

Amae rolled his eyes. “Rape me?” He turned around to go. He chuckled. “That would have proved to be impossible in his state. I don’t know what he was doing, but he wasn’t even hard to begin with.”

XXXXX

Yuuri was sitting in his study, going over a pile of documents. All of them were trade requests from a Human land they had recently signed treaties with. He raised his head as there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?”

“Your Majesty,” Kyota bowed after entering. “May I have a word with You?”

Yuuri’s angered eyes fell on him. “What is it, Docharo? If it’s about Wolfram, I don’t want to hear anything about it!”

Kyota sighed inwardly. Since they were teenagers, Yuuri had been sensitive to his closeness to Wolfram. Despite them getting along quite well, Yuuri had always seen him as a rival. Kyota could not blame him – he had nearly married Wolfram after all.

“I did not come here to complain or anything,” Kyota shook his head. “Please, hear me out, Your Majesty,” Kyota asked. “I believe there’s one thing that the Prince didn’t tell Your Majesty…”

“Drop the formalities, Kyota,” Yuuri pushed the documents aside. “What is it?”

“I think you know pretty well,” Kyota said, walking over and sitting down in the chair in front of Yuuri’s desk. “The reason why Wolfram challenged him.”

Yuuri stood up. He walked over to the cabinet where he stored the drinks. “Want some?”

“Sure,” Kyota nodded. 

Kyota took the offered brandy. As usually Yuuri rarely drank anything stronger than wine, it made Kyota look at him with suspicion. Yuuri sat down in his usual place at the desk.

“Start talking, then,” the king motioned with his hand.

Kyota swirled the brandy in his glass. “Do I really need to?” He frowned at Yuuri’s silence and took a sip of his brandy. “Damn it, Yuuri, Faraya raped him then, twenty years ago.”

Yuuri pushed his glass over the desk. His fists clenched slowly. “So it was indeed so.” His gaze went to Kyota, making the blue-haired male flinch. 

“You knew?” Kyota stared at him. True, he had suspected this, but it had been more of a wild guess than anything. He had hoped to finally convince Wolfram to talk to his husband and resolve the tension between them. He hadn’t really thought that…

“At first I only assumed that something must have happened,” Yuuri muttered. “Then, a week ago now, I finally realized why he was so obsessed with the entire matter and why he was so fond of Amae. It was a dead give-away. What do you take me for?” Yuuri spat. “An idiot? We have been married for more than twenty years, damn it!”

Kyota sipped his brandy. Really, Wolfram was the one who was an idiot. Were he in Wolfram’s shoes now, he would…

“Why did he entrust you with this but not me? Was he the one to tell you?” Yuuri grunted out through clenched teeth.

Kyota nodded. “I believe he was more worried about what you would think than about my opinion,” he said softly.

Yuuri exhaled silently. He rubbed his forehead. “He pisses me off. He really does!”

“Yuuri,” suddenly Kyota asked after an idea occurred to him, “what would have you done if he had not challenged Faraya?”

“I’d have sentenced him to death anyway. That was the original plan.”

Kyota stared at his king’s dark eyes. Gods, he thought, the man is scary.

“What?” Yuuri snarled. “You think I’d let a man who touched my husband walk around as if nothing had ever happened? What I’m angry about is that Wolfram risked his life needlessly!”

Kyota knocked down the rest of his brandy. “Why didn’t you tell him? You know how Wolfram is. But why did you…?”

“Oh, I know perfectly well how he is,” Yuuri snorted. “And it’s always me who-”

“You know,” Kyota stood up abruptly. “You two are idiots. You truly are. I’m leaving first thing in the morning,” he shook his head. “Seriously, you two are worthy of each other. One is an idiot, the other a moron.”

Yuuri opened his mouth.

“Rather than using it for drinking,” Kyota glared at him, pointing at Yuuri’s mouth, “…use it to finally communicate with your husband. To really talk! For all the gods’ sakes!” he grunted, slamming the door behind him. “And thanks for the brandy!” he shouted from behind the door.

Yuuri also chugged the rest of the brandy down. “Really,” he sighed, “what insolence!”

XXXXX

When Wolfram came to Yuuri as asked, he immediately felt the heavy atmosphere in the study. Was there a smell of alcohol in the air? There was something wrong with the way Yuuri was standing and the feeling only worsened when his husband turned around. Yuuri was angry, but not only that. He was also…hurt, sad?

The king slowly approached Wolfram. The blond could see that his husband was almost trembling in anger, working to contain it, his fists tightly pressed at his sides.

Wolfram took several steps forward. “Yuuri..? What happened? Why…” the rest of the sentence stuck in his throat at the stare his husband gave him. What could he have done to deserve that look?!

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?! Why?!” Yuuri bellowed at his astonished husband.

The sudden realization hit Wolfram and he took one step backwards at Yuuri’s furious face. Yuuri was drunk. But not only was he drunk, he also knew. How? Who…?

“Wolfram! Answer me!” Yuuri shouted, closing in again.

Wolfram stared at his husband, his heart pounding loudly and sweat breaking out. He felt himself starting to shake nervously. “I…” He brushed over his sweaty forehead. “I just…”

“Why the fuck did you keep silent?!”

Wolfram flinched, but then his eyes got a firm expression. “Can’t you really understand why?”

“What should I understand, eh? What?! We are married for how many years now? Damnit! There should be no secrets between us! Why the hell did you stay silent until the last?”

Wolfram snorted, “Especially because we are married there are secrets that are better left untold!”

“Wolfram!” Yuuri grabbed Wolfram by his shoulders and shook him fiercely. “Trust is something that you should respect! I trusted in you to-”

“It was my problem and I have dealt with it!”

Yuuri’s face was now so close to his husband’s that they were almost touching foreheads. “No, you didn’t deal with it!” he hissed. “All you did was hide it from me and risk your life!”

“Yuuri, stop it!” Wolfram tried to pry his husband’s hands away from his shoulders. Yuuri was still shaking him violently. “It hurts, Yuuri!”

Yuuri snarled and pushed Wolfram away. The blond lost his footing and landed on his backside.

“Hurts…” Yuuri repeated. “Hurts, he says…” he mocked. “And can you imagine how much YOU have hurt me?!” he yelled down at Wolfram.

“Yuuri, stop it!”

Yuuri’s eyes flashed in anger, but he kept his mouth closed. Then he turned away from Wolfram. Not saying a word, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

From his position on the floor, Wolfram stared at the door. He was scared. What if Yuuri… What if… He hadn’t told Yuuri because he was afraid of the reaction he would get. He didn’t mind pity, he didn’t mind jealousy, he didn’t even mind anger, the only thing he was afraid of was disgust. There were cases…and Yuuri was a king and he was a king’s husband and… If this spread…

Pulling his legs up, Wolfram put his head onto his knees with a low groan. If this spread further… The anger that he suddenly felt welling up in him was something he hadn’t felt for quite some time. Amae couldn’t have told Yuuri. Amae wouldn’t have seen any reason to interfere, but Kyota… The fucker.

Wolfram couldn’t remember when he had felt such hurt and betrayal. Never probably. Anger and frustration clawing at him, he tore out of the study, dashed through several corridors and whipped into Kyota’s room. 

Kyota thought that his head was knocked off his shoulders. Not managing to orient himself, he fell backwards, hitting the floor. Cradling his jaw, he raised his head to look at Wolfram standing above him. The blond’s arms were tightly strung at his sides, his chest heaving in furious pants. There was so much anger and hurt in his eyes that Kyota stopped breathing momentary. He waited for Wolfram to shout or punch him again, but the blond just turned around and stormed off again. 

Frozen in the corridor, Amae watched the prince leave. Wolfram had not even noticed him there. 

“What did he punch you for?” Amae asked, sighing. He walked over to help Kyota stand up. 

Slowly, Kyota rose. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his jaw again. “He thinks I said something I shouldn’t have,” he said finally. “But it seems Yuuri forgot to mention that he had known it all along…”

“Ah, you mean the rape?”

Kyota stared at him. Then he wondered why he was surprised. Amae had been with Wolfram at the time, he must have known all along. He tried to look at Amae’s fingers that were familiarly prodding his chin searching for any cracks in the bone. “And why the hell are you touching me?” he snorted, pushing Amae away from him.

XXXXX

Wolfram stood there for several long and painfully silent seconds. Yuuri was sitting in the armchair at the window. Wolfram hoped that by this time Yuuri had sobered up.

Tentatively, Wolfram stepped forward. “Yuuri…”

There was no sign that Yuuri had heard him. Unmoving, he was staring through the window. But a few moments later he sighed and turned to Wolfram. “I… I might have overdone things a little… I’m sorry. It’s just…” He lowered his head again. “I thought we… It really hurt me, Wolfram.”

Wolfram was next to Yuuri in a blink of an eye, kneeling and grabbing his husband’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was so afraid that… I…” he pressed his forehead to the hands he was grasping.

“I am also at fault,” Yuuri shook his head. “I should have talked to you as soon as I understood.” He saw Wolfram’s surprised reaction. “Oh. Yes, I’ve known for a while now. Actually, I started suspecting twenty years ago. Your habits during sex changed a bit. But otherwise you acted as if nothing had happened. You never said anything. And in the end I just wrote it off as my oversensitive imagination.”

“Oh. Really?” Wolfram lowered his head. He was so relieved that it almost hurt. His fear of Yuuri feeling disgusted had been an empty one. Then he remembered. “I’ve just punched Kyota for nothing.” 

“I’m sure he deserved it for something,” Yuuri shrugged, unconcerned. “Wolfram, tell me one thing. If all this repeated, would you tell me this time?” he asked looking at Wolfram’s bowed head.

Wolfram tensed. He was silent for several seconds. “No.”

Yuuri felt the urge to hit Wolfram, to simply beat some sense into him. Yuuri glared at Wolfram’s head which now rose a few centimeters up from his hands.

“Yuuri, it hurts.”

It took a few seconds for Yuuri to understand which pain Wolfram was talking about and realize that he was squeezing Wolfram’s hands with all the strength he had. He disengaged his hands quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Yuuri, what I’m most afraid is that you would feel disgusted with me. I could never live with that. I did what I did to protect our relationship.”

Yuuri sighed. He stood up. This was a lost case. The two of them had a different understanding of how to protect their relationship. Both of them were doing it in their own unique way.

“I would have killed him, you know,” Yuuri said. “I did not think you would be so stupid as to challenge him. But I also had no idea he was an idiot who would ever accept your challenge. I would have just sentenced him to death. Shori would have backed me up. He would have been dead by now one way or another.”

From the floor, Wolfram was staring at Yuuri’s back. “All you ever said to me was that he was going to be sentenced for a few years of captivity.”

Yuuri gave him a sheepish and embarrassed smile. “I was pissed, Wolfram. I still am. You’ve kept silent until the very end, and I thought to give you a taste of your own medicine. Just to make you sweat a little.”

“He might have told everyone what he did to me.”

Yuuri was silent. He turned to look at Wolfram. “He wouldn’t have,” he said then. “He knew that that it would be the end for him.”

“I had to be sure.”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. He could understand Wolfram’s reasoning. He did not agree with it, but he could understand it.

Yuuri rubbed his forehead, he had been nursing a headache for what seemed like forever. “I’m tired,” he said, his voice quiet. And it wasn’t until he said it that he truly felt it. He was exhausted, all his energy draining down his body and away, leaving nothing but dregs. He didn’t have the energy to be angry or resentful, or to feel much at all. Yuuri turned to look at Wolfram who sat unmoving on the floor, just watching his husband with large, haunted eyes.

“I'm going to bed.”

Wolfram slowly nodded.

Turning his back on the blond, Yuuri forced his numb legs to carry him to the door to the bedroom, one slow determined step after another. At the doorway, he paused, one hand on the jamb, and lowering his head, his voice barely carrying over his shoulder, he spoke. It was mostly for himself, but he needed to say it. 

“Years ago, Murata told me that one day you would be the sword of the kingdom. And I would be its shield.” He paused, drawing a breath and letting it out on a soft sigh, “I just wish that once in a while you'd let me be your shield."

“Yuuri...” Wolfram began, but his voice faltered and he fell silent as Yuuri shook his head. Yuuri just continued on through the doorway and out of the blond’s sight.

It was hours later, and Yuuri still lay awake, one arm bent behind his head and his open eyes focused on the canopy of the large bed. Tried as he was, he was unable to fall asleep. He just laid there, trying not to think, letting the feeling of not feeling wash over him. Wolfram had wordlessly slipped into the bed some time ago and Yuuri assumed that his husband had fallen asleep with his back to him. Somehow, Wolfram could always do that. Maybe it was the military training that let him sleep whenever and wherever, no matter what was going on. Whatever it was, Yuuri wished he shared the ability, because it looked like he wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

Yuuri drew in a breath for a sigh, but suddenly held it as Wolfram's voice floated to his ears.

“When I was first thrown into Faraya's harem, I fought them over every little thing. I was tied up, beaten...denied food and water. I made them pay every time they touched me.”

Wide dark eyes cut to Wolfram's side of the bed. The blond hadn’t moved, still lying on his side, facing away from his husband. The words were soft and slow and Yuuri struggled to keep his breathing quiet, knowing that if he made a sound...if he moved, the spell would be broken and Wolfram would stop talking. Stop letting Yuuri in. He would fall silent again, closing off the part of himself that wasn’t in control, wasn’t tough enough.

“It shouldn’t be a surprise, I guess, to discover that in that sort of place, the occupants use anything and everything to make their lives better. But better isn’t always the same for everyone. Some wanted material things. Some wanted attention. And some wanted to be the one lording it over everyone else. It was politics every day, for the smallest of things.”

Yuuri dared a small movement, slowly turning his head, but not letting his gaze waver from the spill of sunshine blond, now slivered by the light from the moon and the stars that filtered through the open window on the wall beyond the bed. But he worried that even that had been too much, as Wolfram didn't speak for several long breaths. He was just opening his mouth to say something, anything, when Wolfram started again.

“Days pass with nothing to do but try to resist being molded into what they want you to be. There's no point flinging yourself against the same wall, over and over. Once you learn how solid the wall is, you only weaken yourself. And maybe lose the one chance you might get. So, instead of kicking and screaming and swinging at everything that moves, eventually, you either get smart or you become one of their playthings."

Yuuri fretted at the calm voice. It cost so much for Wolfram to say all this. Yuuri’s body ached with the desire to roll over and wrap his arms around his husband, but he couldn’t move.

“The first time Faraya came after me, I fought him off. Oh, I was messed up pretty good, he was so much bigger and stronger. And I hadn't really been eating...and…”

On his side of the bed Yuuri's teeth clinched and he made himself breathe.

"Amae helped me after that. He had been sneaking food to me at times and doing what he could to make me feel better. Even drawing Faraya’s attention to himself to give me some space.

“I studied the guards...the timing of the meals...the personalities of the others...anything. Then I laid my plans. Amae was a part of the plan. He wanted to escape....but... I had to get out before Faraya could- I was tricked. I thought the drink had come from an ally...but it was a trick. And I...

“I couldn't think. My thoughts were...clouded. I remember being hot.... and I couldn't stay still. My body wasn't mine anymore... and more than anything else, I wanted...I just... “

Yuuri had wanted Wolfram to tell him everything, to bare all of himself, but now, hearing the whispering voice that was and was not Wolfram, Yuuri changed his mind. His pride, his ego wasn’t worth this, nothing was. He began to reach for Wolfram's shoulder, to stop the words, to let it be over.

“I thought it was you, Yuuri. I thought it was you, so I didn't... I let him...” the shaking voice trailed off into silence.

Still turned away, buried in the sheets, Wolfram took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it go in a shuddering sigh. His voice was steady again as he spoke, “I don't remember much from the next day. But Amae told me that I was having a bad reaction to the drug. The healer had to be called. And when my mind was clear again, I knew what I had to do. Kyota had found out where I was and eventually, I was able to get a message to him. I used the desires of the only dangerous guard against him and tricked Faraya into killing him.”

Wolfram was speaking more quickly now, and Yuuri lowered his arm back to the bed. It seemed that Wolfram had passed his point of greatest difficulty and was heading to the end of his tale.

“Of course, when we escaped, Faraya's spy went with us. I had expected that, so it wasn't anything that I wasn't ready for. Kyota had brought our troops close enough for us to get to them before Faraya could catch up to us. It wasn't long before Faraya and his forces found us and attacked. We were doing well enough until I took that arrow... and you know the rest.”

“And I know the rest,” Yuuri whispered to himself. Now, he knew it all. The small details were not important. Yuuri hadn’t needed them. It had been not about details.

Yuuri he let his fingers slide into the messy golden locks that had escaped the grasp of the sheets. He caught a skein of the silken mass between his thumb and first two fingers and stroked it, marveling at the softness. Feeling the fingers in his hair, Wolfram rolled over, pulling the covers down, low enough to expose a pair of searching emerald eyes.

If those eyes were expecting to see pity, or anger or disgust, that wasn’t what they saw. A smile, warm and welcoming, curved the lips and the hand at his head urged him to come closer, to snuggle up against the warm body of his husband. And in a sense of wonder, Wolfram pressed himself firmly against the length of Yuuri's body, laying his head on his husband’s shoulder, and feeling strong arms encircle him.

They lay together like that for a while, each one letting their emotions settle.

Stroking through the golden hair, Yuuri smiled at his husband, and emerald eyes turned up to him questioningly.

“Wolfram, it's all in the past now. Let’s go to Ekara tomorrow. We’ll release the soul and just keep on living as we did.”

Wolfram stared into the dark eyes. Twenty years ago, in Faraya’s palace, he had been waiting for Yuuri to burst in through the door and to end the nightmare. But his savior in shining armor and on a black horse never came. Not then. But he had come now. The heavy stone of guilt and fear was gone from his chest and he was finally able to breathe freely.

He smiled at Yuuri. “Yes, let’s do that.”

TBC


	21. Part 21

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 21

Wolfram and Yuuri were standing in the yard of Faraya’s former palace. From the outside the palace hadn’t changed at all. The garden was smaller, though. There probably wasn’t enough money and servants to keep it as well looked after as it used to be. Twenty years ago, Yuuri had chosen a representative, a regent, to rule Bianlu in his name. Yuuri had also introduced many changes, one of them being to lessen the burden of taxes by twenty percent.

The regent was also influential in the territories surrounding Bianlu. Since then (as time in Ekara in regard to Shin Makoku moved faster) four of them had been changed.

It was the middle of the summer and it was hot as usual in the city of Beshan. In a matter of seconds Wolfram felt his shirt start to cling to his back. It was too big a shock for his body to switch over from the chilly autumn air with snow to the boiling heat and dry air here. 

Wolfram’s eyes set on the palace. “Where are we going to release it?” he asked, lifting the small container with the soul. They hadn’t discussed this beforehand.

“Why not in the desert?” Yuuri suggested. “I think it’s better than releasing it in the city. There would be more options that way.”

“Isn’t it better if the soul stays in the territory you control?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t think it would make a big difference. It might turn out the same whether he or she hated or liked me in Bianlu or in some other country.”

“Yes, probably you’re right,” Wolfram nodded.

As Yuuri was visiting Beshan quite frequently, they went inside the palace unchallenged by the guards. There were a lot of changes inside. For one, the old carpets and wallpapers had been changed for new and more modest ones. There were still the same statues, though. Wolfram thought that the regent must like greenery as there were a lot of potted plants everywhere.

“It’s like a jungle,” Yuuri muttered, heading for the stairs at whose base the regent and his guards stood. “I ordered them to lessen the garden, so now they start growing it inside the palace.”

“And those are…?” Wolfram wondered at the sight of three half-naked men behind an important looking man whom he deemed was the regent.

“Yes,” Yuuri nodded, “exactly what you are thinking. He restored the harem. At first I decided against it, then decided to leave it. It’s a cultural occurrence after all.”

“Your Majesty,” the regent and his suite bowed. “Prince Consort.”

“Regent,” Wolfram nodded, acknowledging the greeting. He was aware of how the representative’s eyes slid over him. He also felt the concubines’ eyes seizing him up and evaluating him. Were they…? For a few seconds the prince felt as if he had gone back twenty years. Wolfram raised his head to flash the concubines a harsh look. Heads were lowered quickly, eyes concentrating on the floor. Feeling a shiver pass through his body, he followed Yuuri and the regent who had started climbing the stairs.

While Yuuri was discussing the urgent issues, Wolfram was staring through the window at the garden. During the first part of their conversation, his ears were registering the most of what was said then his mind started to wander.

“Wolfram?”

Wolfram started. “Huh?”

“We are done,” Yuuri said. 

“Oh.”

Only now did Wolfram notice that both the regent and Yuuri had stood up. The other man was still standing at the desk, waiting for his king to leave the room first.

“Are you feeling alright?” Yuuri asked. He was worried by the way Wolfram had been distant during the entire conversation.

“Yeah,” Wolfram nodded. He stood up. He turned to the door and felt Yuuri’s hand press to the small of his back, reassuringly. “I’m just…” Wolfram muttered, then shook off the memories, pulling himself together. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want to rest? We could go to the desert later,” Yuuri suggested. “There’s no rush.”

“No, I want to finish this as soon as possible,” Wolfram said. “There is no need to waste time.”

Yuuri nodded. Time on Ekara went much faster than on Mearan, and he could understand his husband’s anxiety. 

Yuuri arranged for horses for both of them. The representative suggested taking a few guards with them, but Yuuri decided that a bigger party would stand out, which they didn’t need. He and Wolfram just wanted to go out beyond the city walls and release the soul and then they would be back. He thought it would only take about an hour or two. 

Wolfram and Yuuri left the palace as the evening was drawing near. The streets were still hustling but they weren’t paid much attention as it was already darkening. Still, a few people stopped what they were doing and their gazes saw Wolfram’s blond head off until it disappeared from their sight.

Soon they were crossing one of the main streets where, during the morning and day, people marketed their goods. Now it was nearly empty, only a few lonely figures crossing it.

Yuuri turned his head, looking to the side where an old man slipped and, cursing, fell backwards. His walking stick rolled over the cobbles out of his reach.

“You okay?” Yuuri asked, urging his horse closer. “Anything broken?”

“No, just my pride,” the old man grunted out painfully. He wheezed and started standing up. He was thin and bony, wearing an old tattered tunic.

Yuuri slid off his horse to help him. The smell of years and unwashed body filled his nostrils. In a few seconds he had the man on his feet then picked his stick up. When he returned it to the man, he saw Wolfram and the oldster staring at each other. Wolfram’s eyebrows were drawn together in confusion as if he were trying to remember something.

“What are you looking at?” the blond muttered at the wizened face before him. He suddenly stiffened. He slid off his horse, taking a step forward. “Lasami? Is that you?”

The old man nodded. “That would be me,” he said. “And you haven’t changed at all.” He sighed. “Makes me jealous. Look at me,” he motioned at himself, the walking stick wobbling. Then he just gave a dismissing wave of his hand. He took in Wolfram’s well-made uniform, elaborate cravat and boots. “You seem well.” Then he pointed the end of the stick at Yuuri, nearly prodding his chest. “That your husband?”

Wolfram nodded. 

Lasami lowered the stick to the ground and leaned on it, studying the double black. “Looks like a fine man. Kind.”

Wolfram nodded again. He thought that maybe it was just because he was surprised by the unexpected meeting, but he was getting the feeling Lasami was in a world of his own. There was just something… 

“His name’s Yuuri,” Wolfram said. 

“Yuuri, eh?” Lasami gave a toothless grin. He smacked Yuuri on his arm. “You take good care of him. Wolfram’s a good chap.”

Yuuri scratched his head. “I believe I have.” He had no idea who this Lasami was. He was also surprised that Wolfram was letting him act so familiarly around both of them. “For about some thirty years now,” Yuuri added.

Lasami just gave Yuuri an uncomprehending look.

“What have you been doing all this time?” Wolfram asked.

Lasami shrugged his bony shoulders. “Worked at this and that. Then nobody would hire me anymore, but Amae’s jewelry kept me warm and fed for quite some time now.”

“Have you sold all of it?”

Lasami nodded. “I still have some money.” His toothless mouth grinned again. “It shouldn’t let me starve till the very end.”

Wolfram shifted awkwardly. He had never imagined he would meet Lasami under circumstances like these. “We are going to the desert to release Faraya’s soul,” Wolfram said against his better judgment. “Would you like to come with us?”

“So the whoreson’s dead,” Lasami’s lips stretched again. He cackled. “I knew you’d get him in the end.” He looked at the container Wolfram had held up. “Go with you? What for? The soul? The bastard had no soul.” Lasami waved his stick in front of Wolfram. “You are kidding me. Do you want it to be the end of me? My bones can’t take riding.”

Wolfram scratched his head. He looked at himself, then at Yuuri. Neither of them had taken any money. He started unclasping his sword. “Here, take this. You can sell it.”

Lasami eyed the sword. “So that some buggers corner me in some alley and kick the shit out of me for that toy? Nah, thanks, you keep it.”

Wolfram’s hands stopped. He gave Yuuri a helpless look. Yuuri looked down at himself. Anything he would give would probably be stolen from the old man the very same evening.

“Ehh…” the king drawled. “You can come to the palace. I’ll instruct them to…give you food? And some clothes perhaps?”

“A bath,” Lasami said. “What I would really need is a nice hot bath.”

“Alright, then a bath,” Yuuri agreed. “Twice a week?”

Lasami offered the king a happy toothless grin again. “Sounds fantastic.” He raised his stick to poke Yuuri on his chest. “A nice lad indeed, this Yuuri. Good for you, Wolfram. Alright, I’ll be going now. Krasila said she had some milk left. I have to hurry or she’ll feed it to her stupid cats. ”

Wolfram watched the old man wobbling down the street. “Oh,” the blond muttered suddenly, remembering. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Amae is doing fine! Trying to become a healer!” he shouted.

Lasami stopped then turned around and waved his stick in the air. “Good for him!” he shouted back. “Tell him not to whore around too much!” 

Whatever Wolfram wanted to add never came out as he nearly choked. He looked at Lasami’s grinning face then lowered his hands from his mouth. He grinned too. “Yeah, I’ll tell him,” he said softly to himself. He stood there until Lasami’s back disappeared around the corner.

“Who was that?” Yuuri asked.

Wolfram hopped into the saddle and took the reins back into his hands. 

“An old friend.”

XXXXX

“This sudden change in weather is no good for my body,” Wolfram said, shivering. He and Kyota were gentling their horses in the yard. It was snowing, a crust of snow covering the frozen ground.

“What bloody change? It’s been snowing on and off for an entire week now,” Kyota said, urging his horse forward. Kyota’s coat was flapping open. It wasn’t that cold.

“I’ve just recently come back from Ekara,” Wolfram explained, catching up to ride side by side with Kyota. He let go off the reins to wrap his coat around himself tighter. “We released Faraya’s soul. It’s boiling hot there.”

“Ah, I see,” Kyota nodded. “How did it go?”

Wolfram shrugged. “We just released it a bit farther out from the city, in the desert. You know,” he said, “I met Lasami.”

“Who’s that?”

“The servant who used to take care of me and Amae.”

“Oh, you mean the one who I bought nude pictures of you from?”

Wolfram grimaced at him. “Isn’t it ironical that for things like these you have an exceptionally good memory?”

Kyota grinned. “It’s my best quality.”

“No, your best quality is your di-” Wolfram closed his mouth, not finishing the thought, but it was too late. 

Kyota’s grin widened. “Oh, you can only say that after you’ve tried it.”

Wolfram frowned at the mental image presented. He shook his head. “I suspect, though, that I’d never get to the front of the queue,” he chortled. 

“Might be,” Kyota nodded mournfully. “The Countess of Archwalz has recently been really… aggressively persistent.”

“So why don’t you marry her finally?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Kyota rolled his eyes. “Me marrying? Her? No way in hell.”

“What about Leahir, then?”

Kyota laughed in unexpectedness. “Me and Leahir?” He laughed again. “We would probably cheat on each other on our wedding night. Man, that would be quite a sight. But you know,” he grinned. “It might just work. I think it would always keep the marriage fresh.” 

Wolfram rolled his eyes. He wondered whether Kyota was saying what he really thought. Was Kyota really against marriage that much? Or was it just because he had not found who he wanted to marry yet?

“So what about that Lasami?” Kyota asked, returning to the previous topic.

Wolfram sighed. “He’s old, seems to be living from scraps he gets here and there although he said he still had some money from Amae’s jewelry he had sold. I hardly recognized him, and just because he was staring at me so intently. I don’t think he has much more left. We talked and it left me with a weird feeling. Like…all of it… As if the recent events with Faraya and everything are far away in the past.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“Hmm…” Kyota drawled looking forward at the snow-covered yard. While they had been talking, the snow had started to fall more intently. He remembered the feeling he had when he saw Amae again. “I think I know what you mean,” he nodded. “Somehow…floating? Like weightless? Nothing making much sense anymore?”

Wolfram stole a sideways glance at Kyota. “Yes, quite so. Before we left Yuuri arranged for him to have a bath twice a week at the palace.”

Kyota grinned. “That’s nice.”

Wolfram was silent for some time then patted his horse on the neck. “You know, I thought I should tell you that in a week or so Gisela is moving back to von Christ lands.”

Kyota gave him a puzzled look. He was familiar with and quite fond of Gisela, but had no idea why Wolfram was mentioning this to him. She could travel to the end of Mearan for all he cared. “And?”

“And Amae, as her apprentice, is going with her.” 

Kyota tensed. “And why should I care what the damn concubine is doing?”

Wolfram ignored him. “It’s nearly at the opposite end of Shin Makoku from your land. I don’t think you will have many opportunities of seeing him.”

“Thank the gods.”

Wolfram sighed. Then he shrugged. Maybe it had never been meant to be. “Never mind,” he said. “Race you?”

Kyota grinned at him. He urged his horse on. “The square in front of the War God’s temple!” he shouted his horse darting forward. “The last one there will pay for the wine and whores!”

Wolfram urged his horse on. “You always find ways to economize on my account!” Yuuri would wring his neck if he even so much as thought about buying himself a prostitute for a night. Kyota, though, had no problems with that. 

Kyota turned around to mock him. “It’s not my fault your husband’s a prick!”

“Oh, his prick is fine, thank you very much!” Wolfram spat, his horse speeding past the gate. He blushed thickly as his eyes caught the gate guards staring at him. The horse carried Wolfram down the hill towards the town. Then Wolfram heard them bursting out laughing. “I’m gonna skin you alive, Kyota!” Wolfram yelled.

Kyota threw his head back, roaring with laughter. “Well, it was not me who was shouting to the whole town about his husband’s-!”

“Shut the hell up!” Wolfram cut him off, urging his horse to go faster. 

The two of them raced downward, horseshoes raising clumps of snow from the road and throwing it backwards. At top speed they galloped into the street, people scurrying out of their way. The horses skidded over the cobbled streets, making a sudden turn into the road leading towards the temple. One more turn, and the temple was clearly seen, the final sprint starting. The horses gnawed at the snaffles, meters disappearing under the hooves. 

“Yes!” Kyota hollered, slamming his hand onto the foot of the statue of the War God in the middle of the square. “Damn yes!” he panted out, turning his tired horse around. He was met with Wolfram’s resigned face. “Saw that?” he punched his fist into the air.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, it was wonderful.” He turned his horse. “Let’s go to Combo Gain,” he said, wiping sweat off his forehead.

“Wait, wait!” Kyota caught up with him. He thrust a brown hat onto Wolfram’s head. “Here, now we’ll be able to have some fun.”

Wolfram pushed the front of the woolen hat up to be able to see the road again. “You sure came prepared.” He agreed with the hat as once people recognized him, any conversations would halt and people acted reserved around him. He did not mind that, even encouraged it, but there were cases, like this, when one would not want to be recognized.

Kyota and Wolfram reached Combo Gain about ten minutes later. They tied their horses and entered the two-story building. After asking the owner to take their horses some water and lead them into the stable, the two of them sat down at a table in one of the corners. As it was only afternoon, the ground floor in the tavern was nearly empty, the tables mostly vacant.

A maid came up to them almost immediately. At Kyota’s request, Wolfram ordered a few bottles of wine. It was obvious that they would not move from this table soon. He also ordered ham and eggs, boiled carrots and radishes. Kyota said that he also wanted soup, so Wolfram ordered it too.

“Yuuri will probably be mad at you for disappearing like this, won’t he?” Kyota said after the maid left them. He stood up and started removing his coat. 

Wolfram started following his example. “Nah. Well, maybe a little,” he conceded. “But it’s been a long time since I went somewhere.” He shrugged his coat off. He was glad that today he was wearing the clothes he usually used for riding. They consisted of a brown jacket, a white shirt and dark trousers. Wolfram slung his coat over the bench and sat down again.

Kyota was wearing his usual military uniform. But even if people in Shin Makoku knew the county it belonged to, unless they were soldiers, they rarely understood what rank Kyota was.

The blue-haired man eyed Wolfram’s hat. “It’s quite warm in here. Just take it off. It’s half-light here anyway – nobody will recognize you.”

Wolfram pulled the hat off and tossed it onto the coat. He ruffled through the mess his hair had become.

The maid soon brought the bottles and glasses. Wolfram opened a bottle and filled their glasses. Kyota raised his.

“To this evening, then!” he cheered.

“Sure,” Wolfram clinked his glass to Kyota’s.

While the two were slowly sipping their wine, eating and talking, the day behind the windows darkened, the tavern filling with more travelers and regulars.

Kyota motioned for the same maid that kept wine bottles coming to their table. “Any decent girls here?” he asked.

The maid grinned, showing two rows of uneven teeth. “As decent as one can get in town. Which ones do sirs prefer?”

“Exclude me,” Wolfram waved. “I’m here just for a good drink and a company.”

“Oh,” the maid winked. “I assure you, you’d not regret the company of our girls.”

Wolfram raised his hands. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“Any redheads?” Kyota inquired. “Blue eyes?”

The maid took only a second to think. “Oh, yes. A few of them.”

Kyota grinned and stood up. “Lead the way.”

Wolfram dug in his pockets. “Here,” he tossed a few condoms onto the table. Those were from the last time he had been wearing the jacket and he and Yuuri had been out for a ride. They usually went somewhere farther out, like to the lake. But as the weather had gotten colder they would just return and go to the baths.

Kyota shoveled the packets into his hand. “Thanks,” he waved with the hand he was clenching the condoms in. Maneuvering among the tables, he followed the maid to the other side of the tavern and started climbing upstairs. 

XXXXX

It was about one o’clock in the morning. Yuuri was lying in the king-sized bed alone. He knew that he should have been asleep long ago, but against his better judgment he wasn’t. In addition to that he was seething. Wolfram was going to experience hell once he was back. Going away with Kyota heck knows where without saying a word, taking no bodyguards, just…

Yuuri threw the blankets off him and got out of the bed when he heard the door opening in the other room. With a snap of his fingers he lit a candle.

“Well, finally… you’re back!” he growled out angrily, throwing the bedroom door open to glare at his wayward husband. “Do you know what time it is?! Where the heck…?” 

The sight of Wolfram and Kyota arms thrown over each other’s shoulders and staggering across the room in the near-darkness stopped Yuuri dead in his tracks.

“Her name was Silke and she had a husband Rilke!” Kyota hollered, trying to maneuver Wolfram around the table in their way. He headed in the direction of the light source which happened to be the candle Yuuri was holding.

Wolfram was smacked into the table, the edge catching him in the stomach. “Gah,” he gasped then tried to step backwards but Kyota was still trying to push him forwards.

“Her chest was flat and her ass was sagging,” Wolfram sang, catching up where Kyota had left off. “But there was no one else that slutty and she had the best of pu-”

“Wolfram!” Yuuri snapped.

Blinking, Kyota and Wolfram looked at him. 

“Our husband!” Kyota grinned heartily. He let go of the blond and raised his arms as if trying to embrace Yuuri from the other side of the room. Lurching sideways he bounced into Wolfram, pushing Wolfram forward, ramming him into the table again. 

Wolfram pushed himself off the table once more and hop-stepped-staggered backwards. His foot caught on Kyota behind him. He stumbled, waved his hands about, and hit Kyota in the face with his elbow, making the other man howl in pain, and then fell backwards. Flailing his arms, trying to regain his balance, he made a grab for Kyota’s uniform, dragging the other man down with him. The two of them hit the ground with a simultaneous thump.

“Uff…” Wolfram exhaled. He blinked, then stared upwards at the candle that was now hovering above his head.

“You alright?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah,” Wolfram giggled blissfully. “Missed you!” 

The inebriated blond smiled blearily at his husband. It was very rude of Yuuri to be all upside down like that, but Wolfram could handle it. “Kiss… Kiss..” He reached up, catching hold of Yuuri’s pajama top to pull Yuuri’s head down while he lifted his head aiming for his husband’s lips. 

“Ugh!” Instinctively the dark haired man jerked back, rubbing his nose with the back of one hand, trying to rub the smell away. “You smell!”

“Owww,” the blond whined as his head slammed back onto the floor, losing his grip when Yuuri pulled back.

Yuuri glared at him. “Undress and straight into the bed!”

“Heehehe,” Wolfram’s face grinned. “I’m so drunk I don’t think I can get it up.” His eyes skidded from Yuuri’s face to the candle and back again. “Her husband never minded,” he sang again, “because he always farte-”

“Bed! Now!” Yuuri hissed.

Pouting, Wolfram closed his mouth. While Yuuri was squatting down and bending over Kyota, Wolfram scrambled to all fours and started crawling in the direction of the bedroom.

Kyota still lay on the floor and had his hand over his face.

“Hey, you hurt?” Yuuri asked him.

There was no answer and Yuuri patted him on his shoulder. Kyota’s hand slid aside to reveal a bloodied nose and a sleeping face.

“Oh, for gods’ sake!” Yuuri snorted. He put the candle down onto the table then dragged Kyota over the floor and to the sofa. He pulled the blue-haired man’s boots off and tried to roll him onto the sofa. The dead weight that was the drunken man would just not cooperate. First trying to pick up Kyota by wrapping his arms around the blue haired man’s waist and lifting him, intending to try to dump him on the couch was a disaster. It was like trying to lift a large, heavy bag of sand. Parts of Kyota just sagged everywhere and refused to fall onto the cushions. Trying again by getting down on his knees and flinging one of Kyota’s arms over his shoulders and then lifting only got the whole front of Yuuri’s pajama top smeared with blood from Kyota’s nose and other things from his gaping mouth that Yuuri didn’t want to think about. 

Yuuri cursed the man who still lay on the floor, now wetly snoring. The blue haired menace, as Yuuri was beginning to consider his husband’s closest friend, reacted to the negative thoughts sent his way by reaching out and grabbing a handful of Yuuri’s pajama leg and using them to wipe his face and mouth, but never woke for a second.

“Ewww! You blue-haired son of a -! Let go! Let go!” 

Yuuri hopped on one foot as he tried to pull his other leg free of the death grip that the sleeping man had on the fabric. Deciding that this was going nowhere, he undid the ties at his waist and let the fabric slip down his legs, stepping out of the pants. If the bloody monster on the floor wanted the pajamas so badly, he could have them.

Deciding that he had tried harder than the man deserved, Yuuri pulled a pillow from the couch and rudely stuffed it under Kyota’s head, then, draping the decorative sofa cover over Kyota, he left the man sleeping.

Yuuri found Wolfram already in the bed, asleep. With his clothes on. Yuuri peeled the blankets off him, discovering that he still even had on his boots. It took him about ten minutes to undress his husband, and in the process he tossed aside his own bloodied top. Finally, deciding that he would deal with this in the morning, he joined Wolfram under the blanket.

XXXXX

“Hmpf,” Yuuri pushed something off his face. Something slid over his waist, then a body snuggled to his.

Yuuri shifted then also leaned into the warmth. Slowly, in the back of his head, a thought started forming. It was strange that Wolfram was not on his usual side of the bed. He opened his eyes slowly. Blue hair was draped all over the pillow in front of him. Yuuri suddenly realized he was lying in the middle of the bed between Wolfram and this blue-haired nuisance with the bloodied nose.

“Kyota!”

Blue, bleary eyes opened to look at him. Kyota yawned, the stench of yesterday’s alcohol crossing Yuuri’s face. Kyota’s mouth froze while he was staring at Yuuri.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri didn’t even reply. “What the heck are you doing in my bed?”

Kyota was still staring at him, not comprehending how he had gotten there. Why wasn’t he at home in his bed with Leahir or…just someone else other than Yuuri?

“I am sure he woke up last night and went looking for women,” a voice wafted from the other side of the bed. Wolfram sat up. Groggily, he stared at his friend. “Kyota, get the fuck out of the bed! Or do you want me to break your arms and legs?” He eyed the covers suspiciously. “And where the hell are your hands?”

Kyota’s eyes widened. “I think they’re on Yuuri’s ass.”

Yuuri started at the sudden movement on his behind. He shoved Kyota out of the bed, the blue-haired male landing on the carpet on his bottom.

“Ouch.”

“Yuuri,” Wolfram leaned against Yuuri’s side who had sat up, “there’s a law saying one should get his hands chopped off for touching the King without permission.”

“I’m all for it,” Yuuri nodded. 

Kyota glared at them. ”As if I’d ever get into the same bed with you!” he pointed at Yuuri. “It was an accident! Just bad luck!”

“Oh, but if it had been Wolfram lying on this side instead of me…”

The atmosphere in the room was cooling rapidly.

“Then I’d have had my arms broken. And you freakin’ know it,” Kyota glared at Yuuri for even mentioning it. Nursing his backside, he got up from the floor. “I think I’ll just go to the baths.”

Yuuri and Wolfram watched him leave the bedroom then the blond lifted the covers to take a look at Yuuri. “Well, you still have your underwear on,” he said.

“And what would you do if I didn’t?”

Wolfram thought for a moment. “Would have beaten the shit out of him,” he said then.

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose.

“And fucked you senseless,” Wolfram added.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind either of the two.”

Wolfram lay down carefully. “None of them happening today, though. My head’s killing me.”

Yuuri flopped backwards into the bedding, his head nearly hitting the headboard. “I really hate it when you drink,” he muttered. “And will you tell me where the heck you were yesterday? I am even more interested in what you were doing.”

Wolfram groaned.

XXXXX

“Wolfram?” Kyota drawled when they were walking out of the dining-room. They just had a late breakfast, Wolfram hardly managing to swallow anything, concentrating more on juice and water. But Kyota, who was feeling no long lasting effects of a hangover, had had a pretty decent meal consisting of pancakes with jam, fried eggs and a few sandwiches. 

Wolfram gave him a questioning look. “Mm?” Already from the way Kyota seemed to fidget, he knew it was something serious.

“Amae told me not to mention this to you, but it worries me,” Kyota said. “It happened nearly a week ago, though.” Kyota had wondered whether it was the right time to talk to Wolfram about his son. It seemed that Wolfram had dealt with the crisis in his and Yuuri relationship, but another problem so soon…

“And?”

“I think this should be discussed with Lakarde and Amae,” Kyota said.

“Is it anything Lakarde did?”

Kyota nodded. Then he found himself wondering. “Why don’t you think the opposite?”

Wolfram’s brow rose. “Kyota, Amae still isn’t allowed to use his water element and his hand-to-hand combat skills…well…they’re nonexistent. And keeping in mind that Amae can’t keep his mouth shut… He pissed Lakarde off, didn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Kyota shrugged. “But no matter what Amae said or did, Lakarde overreacted a great deal.”

Wolfram sighed. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m pretty damn sure, Wolfram,” Kyota snorted. “I wouldn’t be talking to you right now otherwise!”

Wolfram gave Kyota a worried look. “That serious?”

“What I saw was pretty serious indeed,” Kyota confirmed. Well, finally Wolfram looked worried. “Wolfram, this actually goes beyond what you can justify by puberty.”

Wolfram ruffled through his hair. Then he turned to the guard that stood at the door leading to the royal chambers. “Tell Amae Sederu and Lakarde von Bielefeld to be in my study in ten minutes.” 

The guard saluted and hurried off to fulfill the order. Wolfram and Kyota entered the chambers.

XXXXX

“Lakarde?” Amae wondered after entering Wolfram’s study. He looked around. “Where’s your father?” he asked. But a second later he realized what it was about. “Is this because of the other day?” he asked.

Lakarde said nothing, but seemed nervous. “I think so,” he said finally.

“It was not me who complained to him, though,” Amae said, walking over and taking one of the chairs at the wall.

“You should have, then,” Lakarde muttered.

“Heeh?” Amae drawled, interested. He gave Lakarde an intent look then chuckled, shrugging. The youngster clearly did not like him but at least he felt guilty. 

“This can be easily solved with an apology,” Amae said. “I am also at fault for letting my tongue fly. Yelling at someone twice as young as me is…an embarrassing thing to do.”

Lakarde gave Amae a reconciling gaze. “Well, you were right anyway,” he muttered. “And it wasn’t directed at you at all.”

“That much I’ve figured out already,” Amae nodded. 

The two of them turned around in unison at the sound of the opening door. Wolfram and Kyota took in the situation. Kyota was worried at first then heaved a relieved sigh; it did not seem that the two were at each other’s throats. A few seconds later, while walking to take a chair, he realized that there was no tension between Amae and Lakarde either. Lakarde seemed as if he were on a knife-edge, though.

“Alright, Lakarde,” Wolfram started, after taking his usual chair at the desk, “I want to hear what happened.”

“Nothi…”

“Not you!” Wolfram snapped at Amae. He felt his headache return with full force. His mood dropped to the soles of his boots. He stared at his pale son. “What the hell did you do, Lakarde?” he repeated sternly.

“First I insulted Amae,” Lakarde said softly. “Then I tripped him and pushed to the ground. Then I tried to tear his underwear off.”

Wolfram stared at his son with his mouth open. From his son he turned to Amae who nodded. Kyota was just staring at Wolfram insistently.

“Now, let me say a few words,” Amae said. “First,” he started, not waiting for Wolfram’s approval, “he was very agitated when I happened to pass by. Secondly, I also said a few unworthy things to Lakarde provoking him. Third, I’m not sure what he was trying to do there but it would have been impossible to rape me in his state.”

Wolfram stared at Amae, not really understanding. 

“He wasn’t aroused,” Amae explained. “Limp as a…”

“Enough! I get it, I get it,” Wolfram growled out. He rubbed his aching forehead. Never had he imagined he would face a situation like this. He lowered his hands and his eyes snapped to Lakarde. “You, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Lakarde chewed on his lower lip. “It was all as Amae said. I…”

“Lakarde…” Wolfram hissed, standing up, anger flooding him. “This… I’ve never expected anything like this. You…” he got out from behind the desk. “What the hell is in your head?” he demanded through gritted teeth. “What are you thinking?!” Wolfram walked over to where Lakarde sat, his eyes pining Lakarde to his seat. “Who the hell do you think you are?! What the-?!”

Lakarde suddenly found himself staring at his father’s palm right in front of his face. His mind had gone blank for a moment. His father hadn’t hit him, but the intention was enough to shock him. 

“Wolfram…” Kyota warned, seeing that the situation was slipping out of control. Lakarde was as pale as a sheet, his body trembling uncontrollably.

“But I didn’t do it!” Lakarde screamed suddenly. “I didn’t do it!” he repeated, jumping out of his chair, making Wolfram step back. “I don’t know what…” he choked on his words with agitation. “I don’t know what it was!” he continued shouting hysterically. “I don’t know why! I’m sorry! I don’t know why!”

Wolfram looked at his son, now taken aback, unsure what to do. “Alright, Lakarde. It’s alright. Calm down.”

“It’s not alright!” Lakarde screamed back at him. “Why did you…? I just wanted to help! And you… And Amae… I hate Yuuri!” he screamed with all his might. “Your husband is an idiot!”

Amae stood up. He quickly walked over to the door and opened it, then stepped into the corridor where he found a guard. He told him to call Gisela and ask her to bring some sedatives. When he came back, Lakarde had stopped shouting, now he was crying uncontrollably, his hands with a clawing hold on Wolfram, who had his son wrapped in his arm, holding him tight against his body.

When Gisela came, Lakarde’s cries had already lessened, he began calming down. But Lakarde didn’t protest and drank a glass of water in which Gisela had mixed some sedatives.

The soporifics started working almost instantly, the boy growing weary, his uncontrollable shaking lessening, almost disappearing completely. A few minutes later Lakarde’s eyes closed and he slumped against Wolfram’s chest.

Gently, Wolfram lifted his son. Kyota opened the door and Wolfram carried him to his room, the blue-haired male following him. In the study, Amae looked at Gisela then shrugged.

“I suppose we can go back to packing again.”

In Lakarde’s room, Wolfram laid him onto his bed. He tucked Lakarde in then stood up.

“Want a drink?”

Kyota nodded. The two of them left the room and returned to the prince’s study. Kyota got comfortable in the chair opposite the desk. He watched the blond go to the cupboard to get a bottle. This time it was liquor stronger than wine. He reached his hand for the filled glass that Wolfram extended to him a few moments later. Wolfram sat down at the desk opposite Kyota, and the two of them and drank silently.

“Wolfram?” Kyota drawled, unsure a little later. He didn’t know if he had any right to interfere. “Well,” he sipped from his glass, giving himself some time to think while the blond was watching him intently. The liquor burned his throat pleasantly. 

“I think you should give more attention to your son,” Kyota said finally. He stroked the end of his ponytail that hung over his shoulder, thinking how to proceed. “Lakarde is very smart and serious but at the same time he’s very sensitive and… He…” Kyota faltered at Wolfram’s skeptical face then just decided to go with it. “He’s already used to competing with Yuuri for your attention, but Amae showing up is something very undesirable to him. He would have had the same reaction to anyone who would get more attention from you. Until you establish a normal bond with your boy, it won’t end – Lakarde will fight everyone.”

Wolfram poured himself another one and pushed the bottle over the desk towards Kyota. He turned his head to the window. It was snowing heavily. He took a gulp from his glass. There was a lot of truth in Kyota’s words. Nonetheless, the incident… It had not been directed at Amae, Lakarde’s anger. The real source of anger was Yuuri. To be more exact, Yuuri’s decision to flog him. But Yuuri was untouchable, so Lakarde settled for Amae. Lakarde probably had nothing against Amae, at least not more than against anyone else. Wolfram wondered if he should tell Kyota this, then decided against it. 

“He doesn’t talk much – I can never know what’s on his mind,” Wolfram muttered, sipping from his glass. The alcohol had started working relaxingly on him, his headache dissolving bit by bit. “But it seems to me that he is already too old for this stuff: he’s ten already, Kyota.”

Kyota sighed. He shook his head. “Yeah, he might be too old, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is… He is jealous. Jealous as hell. And, keeping in mind his character, he might feel not as much hurt as outraged now. If you don’t step in, Amae will find himself in a living hell.” Kyota remembered the fierceness in Lakarde’s eyes when he faced the child. “He is perfectly capable of that.”

Wolfram nodded silently, agreeing. “Yeah. His moods are unstable and it seems to me that recently he has been acting a little off.” He sighed at the way Kyota’s eyebrows wriggled. “Even more off than usual. I think it would probably be much better if he were among his peers. Some time ago I started thinking about the Military Academy.”

Kyota looked at him over the top of his glass. “That’s dangerous. He might think that you are punishing him or casting him off.”

Wolfram shook his head. “He’s not stupid, Kyota. He’s just irritated. I’ll talk to him and he’ll accept it.”

Kyota took a sip from his glass. “Wolfram, he needs a different kind of approach. If you send him away now, he’ll take it as favoritism and see it as a personal insult.” He swirled the liquid in his glass then sighed. “But being among his peers would really help him; he is too isolated. They might also find a way to release that pent up frustration of his…”

“Hn,” Wolfram smiled, amused. “It really might be a way out if he found some other object to concentrate on.”

XXXXX

Apprehensive, Lakarde was ransacking through his wardrobe, drawers and shelves in his room. ‘Pack your things.’ This was all that Wolfram had said during breakfast. With his heart beating madly, Lakarde had stuffed his rucksack with things he thought were the most important. Like a pair of clean underwear and a filled container of salt. Clean underwear was the most important item in any man’s life, and salt…the salt was just in case his father decided to throw him out in a middle of a forest to teach him a lesson. His rucksack also included a knife, a few candles, a bottle of shampoo, a rope, a box of matches, some warm clothes. Now he was considering the idea of going to the kitchen and asking for some food and cooking utensils. After some more thought, he did exactly that.

Lakarde heaved the weighty rucksack onto his back. After nearly falling over, he straightened and left his room. The stairs was another difficult task that he managed. Finally, he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He took the rucksack off and stood next to it, waiting. His father appeared ten minutes later.

“What the hell have you got in there?” Wolfram asked, pointing at the rucksack next to Lakarde’s feet. “An entire horse?”

He came closer.

“A knife, two candles, a loaf of bread, a pot, a pan, a fork, a-”

Wolfram raised his hand to stop Lakarde’s earnest report. “Thank you, that’s enough. I think you got me wrong. We aren’t going on a picnic. We are just going to Earth, to the house we have there. Me, you and Yuuri. For a week or so. I think we just need to cool off after the recent events. And to try to work it all out.”

“Oh.” Unaware, Lakarde tapped his rucksack with his boot.

“I see you’re quite happy about this,” Wolfram remarked, watching Lakarde smiling unconsciously.

Lakarde’s smile vanished. It was not that he was happy about this, he was happy that it was not what he had feared. He was so happy that he was faint with relief. He was sure he would manage a week with Yuuri.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

Lakarde gave it some thought. He wanted to ask: What about mom? But then he knew that it never worked like this. “Nothing. I’ll go to unpack some stuff.”

Wolfram nodded.

TBC


	22. Part 22

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 22

It was a late morning and Yuuri was sitting in the living-room of his house on Earth. He, Wolfram and Lakarde had come to Earth in the evening of the previous day. They had unpacked some of the things they had taken with them, then gone to buy some food and toiletries, come back and gone to sleep.

Yuuri was reading a newspaper. Vaguely, he heard the sound of a door being shut and the sound of tapping of feet followed. The sound ended abruptly somewhere in front of him.

Yuuri raised his head to look at Lakarde over the top of his newspaper. Puzzled, he stared at the boy who was in the middle of the process of washing his hair with one hand, while holding a bottle of something in his left. His upper body was bare to the torso, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Where’s my father?” 

“He went out for a ride. I think he should be back in an hour or so,” Yuuri said. 

It was the beginning of winter in Shin Makoku and here, on Earth, it was the beginning of summer. All of them liked this occurrence, especially Wolfram who had immediately used the opportunity to hit the road with his bike.

“This shampoo is weird,” Lakarde said, ruffling through his foamed hair.

Yuuri took a closer look. “Is it the yellow bottle?”

“Yes,” Lakarde nodded. He tossed the bottle to Yuuri after he motioned for it.

“It’s shower gel not shampoo,” Yuuri said after having taken a look at the bottle.

“Will I go bald?”

“The worst you can get is just to walk around with your hair…” Yuuri lifted the bottle to read the label, “…smelling like fresh ocean.”

“Ah. That’s fine with me,” Lakarde muttered, walking back in the direction of the bathroom. He shut the door behind him then opened the tap again and lowered his head underneath it. A minute later, he jerked, his head hitting the tap. Cursing in pain, he spun around.

“Oh. Sorry. But you didn’t seem to hear,” Yuuri held out his hands in a non-threatening way. He was holding a bottle of shampoo. “I just though you could wash your hair again, this time with shampoo, just in case your hair turned into straw.” 

“Eh?” Slow at catching on, Lakarde blinked the water out of his eyes. Had the man just touched him on the nape? Lakarde touched the back of his neck. Rubbing it absentmindedly, he stared at Yuuri.

Yuuri lowered his hands. He put the shampoo on the cupboard where Lakarde could see it. “I love your father, Lakarde,” Yuuri said softly, watching Lakarde trying to erase his touch from the back of his neck. “And I love you too, because you’re his blood.”

Lakarde was looking at him with surprise written on his face. It faded fast, though, Lakarde’s emotions becoming unreadable again. He stopped rubbing his nape.

“I understand that you see me as a hindrance,” Yuuri continued in the same soft tone. “If not for me your father and mother and would be a real family and…” A sudden burst of Lakarde’s laughter made Yuuri start and trail off. 

Lakarde was nearly screaming with harsh laughter. “Hahahaha!” He had to lean on the edge of the bathtub to keep his balance. “You… You…” he tried to speak and then burst out laughing again.

Alarmed, Yuuri waited for Lakarde to calm down. The laughter and the sound of streaming water were sending chills up and down Yuuri’s back. Had the boy lost his mind? He was relieved when, about a minute later, Lakarde’s dark amusement seemed to have been exhausted. 

Lakarde rubbed at his wet face. He turned away to turn the tap off. He faced Yuuri again. “I knew you were naive, but this…” he chuckled, shaking his head, water droplets running down his neck, then chest. “You think I am stupid, don’t you? Saying things like that. My father and mother. A family…?” he burst out laughing again. 

“There never was and never will be a family!” Lakarde spat when his laughter calmed down again. “You think I’m an idiot? My father can’t stand females!” he snorted. “And aren’t I the one hindering everyone?” he hissed, his voice suddenly rising. “I was an inconvenience to him in the first place! He just needed an heir. My mother just wanted to escape her idiot father. To you I am just the proof of his unfaithfulness. 

“You think I don’t know all that?” he gritted his teeth, his whole frame shaking. “You think I don’t see the guilt in his eyes when he looks at you?! I am his misdeed towards you!” 

Lakarde inhaled audibly. “Wolfram did the right thing! How could you flog your own husband?! I… I hate you!” he screamed in Yuuri’s face. “I so freaking hate you! You damn foreigner with your different culture and thinking! And your idiotic guilt and your stinking naive character!”

Yuuri stared at the boy. He stepped forward suddenly to embrace Lakarde. Although half-heartedly, Lakarde fought him at first but then let Yuuri’s arms encircle him. 

“Aren’t you now the one acting like a foreigner?” Yuuri said softly. “The law in Shin Makoku says I have the absolute right not to only flog him, but also to kill him.” Yuuri stroked the wet head while holding the shaky boy. “I’m sorry, Lakarde,” Yuuri whispered, feeling tears pricking his own eyes. “I love Wolfram very much. I think the flogging hurt me more than him. I’m so sorry you think... But I think you know all that, Lakarde. Shh…” he bent to kiss the dark blond hair when Lakarde started crying. “It’s alright. It will all be alright.”

“All I ever wanted is for him to at least say once he loves me,” Lakarde hiccupped. “But you’re the only he thinks about!”

“He loves you, Lakarde. We all do. You know that,” Yuuri said. “He just…I think he is afraid he would spoil you too much. He’s not that good with emotions. You know that.”

“He wanted to…” Lakarde hiccupped, “…to hit me. Because of that A-Amae… Amae is just a… I…”

Yuuri sighed. He blinked tears out of his eyes. “Lakarde, were it my decision, I’d not hit you. I’d have you spanked for what you nearly did to Amae. Yeah, I would have given you a nice tanning of your hide.” He grinned at Lakarde’s frowning face.

Yuuri took Lakarde’s face in his hands. “He cares, Lakarde. He cares about you too much to just let you off for what you did. All he wants, Lakarde, is for you to grow up into a fine young man.” He watched Lakarde’s face, wet with tears and snot. For all of his bravado and loud mouth Lakarde was just a child. Too prideful too, at that. This was probably the first time in Lakarde’s short life that he had stepped down from his pedestal and admitted his weaknesses. Yuuri felt himself grin at Lakarde’s face. Regardless of it being one of the main reasons for Yuuri and Wolfram’s conflicts, wasn’t it also one of Wolfram’s best features?

“W-what are you looking at?” Lakarde squirmed. He pulled his face from between Yuuri’s hands and stepped back, the back of his legs propping against the bathtub.

“I was just thinking that you and Wolfram are quite alike. Two stubborn and prideful assholes.”

Lakarde blinked his wet eyes at Yuuri, not sure how to react to this. Then he grinned back at the dark-haired man. “You sure I won’t tell what you said to my father?”

“Oh you can tell him,” Yuuri waved it off. “I have told him that quite a few times.”

Lakarde chuckled. “And he probably retaliated by calling you a naive wimp, didn’t he?”

Yuuri’s brow rose. He laughed. “Exactly.” It seemed that Lakarde was perfectly familiar with their relationship. 

Yuuri and Lakarde stood facing each other for a few moments. Lakarde wiped his tears away with a motion he hoped Yuuri interpreted as a tired brush over his forehead. For some reason he didn’t feel as embarrassed as he thought he should be. He just felt tired and lightheaded. The wall that he had kept pushing at had suddenly crumbled leaving him with a feel of a freefall. He had to rethink a few things.

“You alright?”

Lakarde nodded. “I think I’ll just go for a nap.”

Yuuri looked at Lakarde’s wet hair. He nodded slowly. Wolfram would have a few questions when he was back. It was just noon.

XXXXX

Taking a place at the table, opposite Yuuri who was fumbling with the teakettle, Wolfram listened to the shower in the bathroom. It was late in the evening and Lakarde was preparing to go to sleep. Despite the fact that he had just recently got up.

“What happened while I was away?” Wolfram asked Yuuri who was mixing flour and milk in a huge bowl, having set the teakettle aside. He intended to make pancakes in the morning.

“Nothing much,” Yuuri shrugged. “We just had a hearty talk.”

Wolfram gave him a suspicious look. When he got back, his son had already been sleeping. It had only been midday, and Lakarde didn’t have a habit of taking afternoon naps. In the evening, when Lakarde had finally shown up in the living-room… Wolfram didn’t know what it was, but there was something different about the boy. For one, he seemed much more relaxed and calmer than he had ever been. And there was no tension between him and Yuuri anymore. His son even managed to hold a conversation with Yuuri about what he wanted for dinner. Wolfram had just been left staring in wonder as, after exchanging a few suggestions, Lakarde followed Yuuri to the kitchen to help him prepare dinner.

“Well, never mind,” Wolfram shrugged. “I’m just happy that you two can finally be civilized with each other.”

“I’ve always been civilized with him,” Yuuri pointed out. He looked around for salt.

“Well, yes,” Wolfram sighed, conceding. 

Moments later, Lakarde appeared from the bathroom. His father and Yuuri were preparing to go to bed, but as Lakarde had slept through most of the day, he didn’t feel sleepy at all. 

“You can watch TV or just play a game,” Wolfram said after noticing Lakarde’s unsure face.

“A game?” Lakarde asked, not interested in the first suggestion; he couldn’t understand and found the television irritating.

“Yes, let me show it to you,” Wolfram said, walking over to the cupboard where the Playstation was stored. 

“There’s some food in the kitchen,” Yuuri added.

XXXXX

“Gmmm?” Yuuri grunted feeling the mattress shift. He rolled over, casting a glance at the window. Behind the curtains, dawn was breaking. “You are unbelievable,” he muttered. “Stayed up all night playing?”

“Yeah,” Wolfram yawned. “I left Lakarde playing. I’m too old for this.”

Yuuri’s mouth let out a hardly recognizable noise which clearly indicated what he thought of the statement.

XXXXX

Yuuri had just started preparing for lunch when the two von Bielefelds descended downstairs about noon. Wolfram padded into the kitchen while Lakarde shut himself in the bathroom.

“Morning.” 

In a straight line Wolfram headed for the fridge. He took in the contents. The fridge was filled with food that Yuuri had bought while he and Lakarde had been sleeping. 

“I’ll make some quick pancakes for you and Lakarde,” Yuuri said. “We’ll be having stew later. Give me the bowl with the mix for pancakes.”

Wolfram retrieved the bowl from the fridge and held it out for Yuuri, then closing the fridge and taking a seat at the table. He switched the teakettle on then looked at the shelf near the sink trying to remember which mug was his.

“You sure like cooking, don’t you?” Wolfram asked after watching Yuuri hustling around the kitchen.

Yuuri’s hand, that was pouring the mix into the hot pan, faltered. Then it returned to idly stirring. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “Hmm… I suppose I do. I’m not into it or anything but I find it relaxing. You know like…some people like fishing, others making kites or whittling.”

Wolfram nodded. “I see.” He filled his mug. “Want some?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I was thinking we could go out for the evening. Just to sit at some café, to idly talk, have a glass of wine. Or ice-cream,” he added at the sight of Lakarde entering the kitchen. He gave the youngster a grin. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Lakarde mumbled.

Yuuri watched the boy’s back as he went past him and clumsily picked one of the washed mugs from the shelf, nearly dropping it in the process. He sat down next to Wolfram and poured himself some tea.

Yuuri turned back to the stove to turn the pancake over. Lakarde glanced at the dark-haired man’s back. Lakarde frowned at his mug. He stirred his tea with a few jerky motions. Then he sipped his tea. 

“Shit!”

Wolfram and Yuuri looked at Lakarde, who was pressing his hand to his burned mouth. Yuuri walked to the sink to fill a glass of cold water.

“Here,” he held it out.

“Thanks,” Lakarde muttered, nursing his lip. And yet it seemed that he could not summon the previous anger. There was also no need for it. Yuuri had turned out to be just Yuuri after all.

XXXXX

Lakarde was on his way from the bathroom back to Yuuri and his father who were sitting outside the café on the terrace under one of many colorful sunshades. He was already halfway through the noisy café when a voice stopped him.

“Would you like some lemonade?”

Lakarde turned around to see two women in their twenties. The slightly older one of them was holding out a can to him while the second one stood next to her and seemed to be somewhat flustered. As it was hot and he was thirsty, he took the can without much thought. 

“Thank you.”

“Ah, here, let me open it for you,” the older woman took it back to open it as it was clear that Lakarde did not understand how it worked.

Lakarde thanked the woman again. He sipped the drink. It tasted like a horse’s piss with corrosive bubbles added. The floor did not look that expensive. Lakarde lowered the can onto the nearby table that smelled like the perfume of one of the females and started looking for an opportunity to knock the damn thing over.

“Isn’t that your daddy over there?” the woman pointed her finger at the window through which Yuuri and Wolfram could be seen sitting at one of the tables.

Lakarde shifted, turning to look, his elbow knocking the can over. It rolled over the table and twanged onto the floor. He felt sorry that his feet couldn’t reach it to kick it and send it rolling even further because the woman leaned over to grab the can. A waiter who saw the incident rushed to the kitchen to get a mop.

“A little clumsy, aren’t you?” she smiled, giving him the half-empty can back.

“Yeah,” Lakarde agreed, taking it. “I sure am.”

“So, is it your father?”

Lakarde looked at where she was pointing. “Which one?”

The woman gave Lakarde a look. Lakarde knew she was wondering whether he was alright in the head.

“The blond man, of course.”

“Oh, that one. Yes, he is.”

“Who is that next to him?”

“My father,” he answered. He was not lying, he just thought about it in the terms of an earthling. If Wolfram and Yuuri were married, then they were his parents. Logical. To an earthling. Besides, he was bored.

Lakarde was aware of the look the woman and her friend were giving him. 

“You said the blond was your father.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Lakarde smiled at her innocently. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

Lakarde headed towards the door leading to the terrace.

“Hey, wait!” The two women rushed after him. “You forgot your lemonade!”

Lakarde’s face fell. He turned around to take the can. “Thank you.” 

As expected, the women followed him to the terrace. The three of them approached the table, and Wolfram’s questioning eyes set on Lakarde.

“Daddies, these ladies seem to have taken a liking to you,” Lakarde said, seating himself on a free chair next to Wolfram.

Wolfram turned to stare at the women, while Yuuri, with his eyebrows raised, stared at Lakarde.

“I’m gay,” Wolfram said. He had long ago noticed that it was the fastest way to get rid of unwanted attention.

Yuuri’s eyes left Lakarde. “I’m bi, but I’m married to him,” with his thumb he pointed at Wolfram.

“Oh…” the older woman recovered first. She forced a smile. “How…unusual. We’ll go now.” She waved her hand awkwardly. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Bye, bye!” Lakarde waved at their backs. He took the can and started pouring the lemonade onto the parterre next to him. 

“Don’t waste your food!” Wolfram scolded.

“I never wanted it. It’s disgusting,” Lakarde said. But he stopped.

“Give it here,” Wolfram reached out. “Hell, it smells like a cat’s piss,” he frowned after smelling the can.

“A horse’s,” Lakarde corrected him.

“Just throw the damn thing away,” Yuuri said. From the corner of his eye, he watched Lakarde. “Daddies?” he repeated.

XXXXX

It was evening already, and Yuuri was in the shower getting ready for the night. Wolfram glanced at Lakarde who was torturing the Playstation. 

“Lakarde?”

The boy half-turned to him, the most of his concentration still on the muscular man with an axe on the screen.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Wolfram said.

Lakarde paused the game. Apprehensively, he stood up and walked over to the table, sitting down opposite his father.

“I was thinking about sending you to Military Academy,” Wolfram said without dancing around the subject. He waited for Lakarde’s reaction.

“Was this Yuuri’s idea?”

“Yuuri would not be so stupid as to suggest it to me and you know it,” Wolfram said. 

Lakarde nodded slowly. He knew. He really knew Yuuri would not risk incurring Wolfram’s displeasure. There were things Wolfram could not forgive, even to his husband. But even though he knew he still… He just did not want this to be happening.

“It’s not a punishment,” Wolfram continued. “I think you lack socializing with your peers. You need to see that there’s a world outside the castle. A change like this will be a valuable experience.”

Fixedly, Lakarde stared at the top of the table. He mulled the thought over in his head. 

“They have strict discipline,” Wolfram added, “which I am sure will do you lots of good.”

Lakarde’s eyes narrowed at the table. He chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah, I am sure of that, too.”

Wolfram said nothing. He was sure this was only the beginning of Lakarde starting to express what he thought of the suggestion. He had not thought this would be easy. But Lakarde said nothing else. Finally, his son nodded.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He sighed and looked at his father. “I do understand the reason for the decision. To tell you the truth, I’ve thought about going there myself. Gwendal told me lots of stories from the times he was a student there. I kind of… If I ever become your successor and will have to command the army or go to war…. Gwendal said it’s a good place for that kind of experience.”

Wolfram was both surprised and relieved at the same time. He was grateful to Gwendal for steering Lakarde when he had missed out as a parent. He should have talked to Lakarde beforehand. 

“A lot of things have changed since Gwendal attended the academy,” Wolfram said. “I heard they have very strict rules,” he added. “Like rarely allowing students to run back and forth from home and having to make with the plainest living conditions.”

“Sounds like real fun,” Lakarde commented. “Are you trying to talk me into it or talk me out of it?”

“I just want you to know what you are facing.” Wolfram ruffled through his hair then a grin tugged at his lips. “Well, if they don’t allow you to return home, you can always do something so that they’d have to send for me to take care of your mess.”

Lakarde grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

XXXXX

Wolfram closed the bedroom door softly so as not to wake up his husband. He found the switch and turned on the light. Yuuri grunted, raising his hand to shield his eyes.

Wolfram looked at him to see him blinking his eyes. “Sorry.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Why not?” Wolfram asked, walking over to the wardrobe and opening the door. Yuuri usually had no trouble sleeping. 

Watching his husband hanging up his clothes, Yuuri rolled his right shoulder. “What did you talk with Lakarde about?” he asked. “The atmosphere when I returned from the bathroom was quite different.” 

“Ah, so that’s why.” Wolfram had finished hanging the clothes and slipping into his pajamas, then went to switch off the light. “I told him it would be a good idea for him to go to the Military Academy.”

There was silence, only a few creaks heard while Wolfram was climbing into the bed.

“That’s news to me,” Yuuri muttered finally. “I expect he did not take it well?”

“It went much better than I had expected,” Wolfram said. Turning on his side, he shifted closer to Yuuri. “It seems Gwendal had been trying to talk him into it; Lakarde respects him very much.”

“I see…” Yuuri drawled, also turning to his side and draping his arm around Wolfram. “So did he agree?”

“Yes. We will spend a few more days here then go back to Shin Makoku and I’ll send a letter to the head of the Academy.”

“Are you sure, Wolfram? It’s not something to be decided on a whim…”

“I did not decide on a whim,” Wolfram protested. “I have been thinking about this on and off for half a year now. He needs to get some fresh air instead of being locked up in the Castle with grown-ups. It will do him good, being among his peers.”

Sensing that despite his words Wolfram was feeling guilty, Yuuri slipped his arm under the cover to rub his husband’s back soothingly. 

“Actually I think it won’t be that easy,” Yuuri said.

“Hm?”

“Well,” the king drawled, “for a start, even if it’s the middle of the first semester, I expect that he will still be ahead of his course. From what I know and hear from Gunter, Lakarde is quite a diligent student.”

“Yeah,” Wolfram nodded. “I thought about it too. I think a few tests to see his abilities should help to differentiate him from the students that are not at his level.” 

“Alright, this is a good idea,” Yuuri agreed. “But won’t he start being difficult there? Like you know, protesting and rioting…and all that other stuff teenagers do? Not that I know much about it,” Yuuri added after some thought. “I don’t think I had time for that,” he wondered, now realizing that back then when he was just a teenager, his responsibilities and duty had fallen onto his shoulders hard, not leaving him much time for just being a teenager.

“Neither did I,” Wolfram said. “Although I did try pretty hard,” he chuckled, shifting in the bed and yawning. “But there was not much stability in Shin Makoku at that time, wars and whatnot. By the time I was Lakarde’s age, I…” he sighed not finishing. 

“Lakarde’s difficult, I know that better than anyone else, but he’s agreed, Yuuri. And he is not a small child to start spitting like a cat at this stage now. Besides,” Wolfram muttered in a soft voice, “the most it can take is six years.”

“That’s lots and lots of time,” Yuuri said darkly. “I expect they do have holidays and allow visitors?”

“Yes, they do,” Wolfram nodded. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Yes,” Yuuri rolled his eyes, “knowing Lakarde he will probably just come and go when he wants ignoring all prohibitions and rules.”

Wolfram chuckled. “I wouldn’t really mind it. It would just mean that he wants to come home.” Closing his eyes, he exhaled. He enjoyed the feeling of Yuuri’s warm hand drawing circles on his back. He grunted as suddenly it slipped downwards to grasp his buttock. Yuuri’s lips touched his face, seeking his mouth.

Yuuri smelled of toothpaste, shampoo and shower gel. Wolfram decided that the mixed scents with a minty edge to them were pleasant to his senses. 

“It’s not a very good idea,” Wolfram muttered between their kisses, his right hand sliding over Yuuri’s smooth back and into Yuuri’s still slightly damp hair. “Lakarde’s…”

“Lakarde is not a kid,” Yuuri interrupted him impatiently. “Besides, he’s in another room separated by a corridor and if you won’t be moaning your head off, then he won’t hear a thing.”

“Why is it only about me moaning my head off?” Wolfram nipped his husband’s lower lip. “You sure you won’t be?” he applied some pressure to turn Yuuri onto his back.

“What I am sure about is that we haven’t had sex for nearly a week. My stamina is not that great.”

“It was only four days, Yuuri,” Wolfram said, his hands sliding to the waistband of Yuuri’s pajamas.

“Way too long,” Yuuri muttered, reaching out to catch Wolfram by the front of his pajamas. He pulled him down for a sloppy kiss. 

Yuuri started working on the buttons on Wolfram’s pajama top. He suppressed a moan as Wolfram shifted above him to get into a half-sitting-half-lying position and the blond’s thigh slid over his forming erection. The buttons on Wolfram’s pajama top were proving to be difficult again. His brain was not managing to cope with more than one task at a time.

Breaking the kiss, Yuuri turned his head to the side. He went back to battling the annoying buttons.

“I suspect that to master a bra would prove to be impossible for you,” Wolfram giggled at his husband’s efforts.

“I don’t think there are more than one or two clasps,” Yuuri grunted out now nearly having finished with his task. “Here, done,” he said, contently sliding his hands over Wolfram’s bare chest and stomach. 

Wolfram hummed in pleasure at Yuuri’s hands caressing his chest then sliding over his nipples and down to his waist then up again but now under his loose pajama top over his back, to his shoulder blades. He slid backwards so that Yuuri’s erect member was against his ass. Teasingly, he rubbed against it. 

“Mmm…” Wolfram shivered at the sudden realization that he wanted to feel it press against his entrance and then inside him.

Sensing something in Wolfram’s body switching over, Yuuri felt the urge to just throw Wolfram off him and into the bed and to sheathe himself in that teasing ass. Yuuri’s hands left the blond’s back and slid towards the waistband of his pajama bottoms. His right hand slipped into them. He grasped the blond and gave him a few firm strokes.

Wolfram shivered at the sudden pleasure. But then the touch was gone, Yuuri shifting beneath him. Knowing what Yuuri wanted, Wolfram stilled him, pressing him back into the bedding. He slid off Yuuri then pushed the covers off them and to the floor. He pulled Yuuri’s pajama bottoms and underwear down. Wriggling, Yuuri helped him to get them off. 

Wolfram quickly stripped off his own bottoms and then crawled in-between Yuuri’s thighs. 

“Here.”

In the darkness, Wolfram could discern Yuuri holding something out. He took it. It was a small tube. The smell told Wolfram that it was the lubricant they had been using lately.

“So you did plan this in advance. Where did you keep it? Under your pillow?”

“Exactly,” Yuuri chuckled. “While taking a shower, I wanted to jerk off so badly but I decided to share my pent up frustration with you.”

Wolfram leaned forward to issue a messy kiss. “And I thought you were that worried about Lakarde. But your thought is sure appreciated.”

Not to mention Lakarde being able to smell it all over the bathroom, Yuuri added in his head but never voiced it aloud. There were particular things that shouldn’t be mentioned under particular circumstances.

“You keep this,” Wolfram squeezed the lube back into Yuuri’s hand. “I’ll just use my mouth.”

“You sure know the right words to make a man- Oooo,” Yuuri nearly sang as Wolfram’s mouth slid over him. Then the wet warmth was gone again.

“Keep it down,” Wolfram warned.

“No, YOU keep it down,” Yuuri muttered, his hand groping for Wolfram’s head. He slid it into the blond’s hair to try and lower it to continue what it had started. “And the more down, the better.”

Wolfram grinned at Yuuri’s crotch. “Well, let’s see how long you can be so witty.”

A few well-placed licks made Yuuri’s blood roar. Wolfram took the head of him into his mouth. He sucked lightly then retreated to tease the slit with his tongue. A few moments later he took him into his mouth again. He started a leisurely pace, taking Yuuri only half-way, his left hand massaging Yuuri’s testicles.

“C’mon,” Yuuri grunted, “don’t tease me.” His fingers grabbed at Wolfram’s hair more firmly and pressed.

Wolfram gagged as it was too much for him. He brushed Yuuri’s hand out of his hair and slid back to his knees. “I’m not teasing you,” he panted out. “I’m just waiting for you to figure out what to do with the lube in your hand.”

Yuuri realized he was still holding it squeezed in his left hand. “So you do want me to fuck you,” he said huskily. “And you still play coy.”

“I wonder how sucking your cock down my throat makes me coy.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Alright, move forward.” He uncapped the tube when Wolfram slid upwards. Squeezing out a generous amount of the lube on his fingers, he leaned forward, so that his hand was behind Wolfram. “Oh, sorry,” he said after Wolfram jerked at the touch, “is it cold?”

“Yeah. Never mind.”

Yuuri rubbed his fingers over the entrance to massage the ring of muscles and to warm the lubricant. Wolfram pushed against his digits indicating he was more than ready. Yuuri pressed, his index finger slipping through. 

“Mmnn…” Wolfram hummed, savoring the feel of penetration. 

Yuuri moved his finger in and out then he added another one. He pumped leisurely then crooked them to press against the blond’s prostate.

“Ahh,” Wolfram exhaled as a spark of new pleasure raced through him.

Wolfram leaned forward, now nearly lying on Yuuri, his body flushed and following the rhythm of his husband’s fingers in his body. Vaguely, he could head the bed squeaking. He lowered his forehead to Yuuri’s chest to stifle the moans that threatened to erupt from his throat. He was wet, loose and wanted it so badly that it made him tremble.

Yuuri removed his fingers. Sitting up, he pulled Wolfram into his lap. Yuuri held the blond by his waist while they shared a hurried and sloppy kiss. Then Wolfram pushed himself away. He rose a little above Yuuri. Holding himself with his left hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, he reached out with his right behind him. He took Yuuri and maneuvered him so that he was pressed against his entrance. He started sliding downwards, impaling himself.

Yuuri’s hands slid down Wolfram’s waist and to his hips. He fought down the urge to just shove Wolfram all the way down. Instead, his hands settled there to support Wolfram. A few seconds later Wolfram was sitting in his lap. The blond exhaled the breath he had been holding. A few seconds later he raised himself then came down again.

“Oh yeah,” Yuuri grunted as the movements became faster. “Damn yeah.”

Wolfram’s skin was flushed while he rode Yuuri. His husband’s cock was hard as a rod of steel. If at first it did not feel very natural, now he could only think about getting it as deep into himself as possible. He leaned forward to wrap his arms Yuuri’s shoulders. He groaned into Yuuri’s neck as the slight change in the position made a burst of new pleasure shoot up his spine. 

The blond panted against Yuuri’s neck. “Umm…” he pressed his mouth to Yuuri’s skin to muffle his voice. The pleasure was coiling tighter and tighter to the point of snapping back upon itself. 

“I’m n-early,” Wolfram grunted out. “Ohh…” he closed his eyes again. It was good, so good.

Then it was gone, his unsatisfied body suddenly changing position. Disoriented, Wolfram looked up at Yuuri who now was above him. Yuuri was on his knees between Wolfram’s spread legs. Wolfram bent his knees, shifting closer. Yuuri pulled his lower body onto his lap then guided himself back into him.

The change in the position prolonged his orgasm, Yuuri’s cock now stimulating different areas in him. Wolfram’s hands fisted themselves into the bedding so as to fight the urge to touch himself. Yuuri now was in control, his deep forceful thrusts rocking his body. Wolfram turned his head to the side and gritted his teeth to keep himself from moaning.

Pre-cum was oozing steadily from Wolfram’s cock and pooling on his stomach. Yuuri rubbed his fingers over the puddle then took hold of Wolfram’s member. The reaction was instantaneous, Wolfram tightening around him, nearly painfully. Grunting at the pressure, Yuuri started smearing the pre-come over the blond’s length. After a few strokes, the pressure around him lessened but then, now pulsing, was back again.

“I’m going to…” Wolfram panted out. His body tightened, then arched. The cock in Yuuri’s hand throbbed then started spurting clear liquid.

Yuuri’s eyes rolled back in his head at the heat and sudden near impossible restriction around his cock. He waited for Wolfram’s orgasm to subside then pulled out from him to finish himself with his hand. It took only a few quick strokes and he released over the blond’s chest, some of his sperm landing on his chin too.

Not yet completely back from the heights of pleasure, Wolfram raised his hand to wipe at it. Then he raised his fingers to smell it. Slowly it dawned on him that he was still lying sprawled over Yuuri’s lap while his husband was watching him with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Hm?”

“I think we could use some tissues here,” Yuuri said, drawing a circle on Wolfram’s chest, mixing their seed.

Wolfram tried to move backwards but Yuuri held out his hand for him. “There’s a pack in one of the drawers,” Wolfram said, taking his hand. He straddled Yuuri then slid off him and to the side. 

Yuuri climbed off the bed and walked over to the nightstand. Indeed, inside the first drawer there was a box of tissues. He took it and came back into the bed. They cleaned themselves as much as they could and went to sleep.

XXXXX

“Hmmnn,” Yuuri purred, crawling over and leaning against his husband’s back while Wolfram was reaching out for something outside the bed. He nuzzled the back of Wolfram’s neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see what time of day it is,” Wolfram replied. He grabbed the edge of the curtain and pulled it towards him. He repeated the action a few times until the heavy curtains parted in the middle, letting in bright sunrays.

“Lakarde must be already up,” Yuuri said, rolling off Wolfram as he slid back under the covers. “Go shower first. I’ll come down later.”

Wolfram nodded. He stretched in the bed, yawning. “Right!” he said, throwing the covers aside onto Yuuri and jumping out of the bed. “Ow,” he frowned at the dull ache in his lower regions. Then his eye caught the crumbled tissues strewn around the bed. “Clean up the mess while I’m taking a shower.”

“Hmm?” Yuuri scooted to the edge of the bed and looked over. “Ooh, the proof of our highly successful rendezvous.” 

Wolfram chuckled. He found a night-robe and dressed himself in it. Climbing downstairs, he could hear Lakarde playing something again. Slightly opening the door, he stuck his head into the living-room.

“You hungry?” he asked the boy.

“I made myself some sandwiches for breakfast,” Lakarde answered.

“What time is it?”

“Past midday.”

Wolfram blinked. “You should have woken us up.”

Lakarde gave him a look. “From what I heard yesterday just before going to sleep, I figured you two would need your rest,” he muttered.

Wolfram felt his cheeks burn. “Ah,” he said. He turned around. “I’ll go take a shower then we’ll see about lunch.”

“Right,” Lakarde said, going back to playing the game. 

TBC


	23. Part 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 43+. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 10+.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 23

Military Academy was located in von Christs’ lands. It was the place where the sons of noble families from Shin Makoku usually spent their youth. Recently, thanks to the new policy in Shin Makoku, quite a few noble families from countries that had treaties with Shin Makoku would also send their offspring to this academy. It was considered a matter of social standing to receive an education in this acknowledged and reputable school.

Although most of the disciplines taught at the school involved military disciplines such as sword-fighting, marksmanship, strategy and element wielding, the boys also learned proper etiquette in various society strata, economics, singing and playing musical instruments. The young men, after finishing the Academy were expected to do well in a battle as well as be popular during a high-class ball, and in addition to this would also be able to increase the wealth of their families at least twice over.

Lakarde stared gloomily at the enormous building. It was about four o’clock but it was winter and it was already half-light, so he could not quite discern its contours. He wondered what was expected of him. He had already crossed balls off of his list. 

Holding a bag in each hand, he started climbing the high stairs. From now on he would have to do without servants that were ready to do everything at the smallest beckon of his hand. 

Once at the top of the stairs, he lowered one bag and reached out for the door handle. Behind his back, his carriage made a move back to the gate. Lakarde dragged his luggage inside the building, letting the door close behind him. He was greeted by a huge hall and several leading corridors and stairs to another floor. There was a desk next to one of the walls where an old man sat, a wooden board with nails and keys hanging on them above his head. Lakarde decided he was the watchman.

“Good afternoon,” Lakarde bowed. “I just arrived. I was…”

“Not here,” the old man waved. “The dormitory is behind the main building. It’s adjacent to this, but has another entrance.”

“I see. Thank you very much,” Lakarde bowed again. He took his bags and headed for the door. 

Once on the stairs again, he looked around. Further along, he could still see a junction of cleaned out path. It led in opposite directions, both paths disappearing in the darkness. He hefted his luggage and went downstairs. He chose the left path. The paths were cleaned, without a sign of the heaps of trampled snow that marked the rest of the courtyard. Lakarde was sure that every morning, if it had snowed throughout the night, the students would be made to take care of it. 

Lakarde was wearing a warm coat and battling with his heavy luggage made his shirt stick to his back. Finally, he reached another set of doors. His winded breath rolling out in puffs into the air, he dragged himself up a few steps. 

Lakarde closed the door behind him, and the man who was sitting at the desk at the entrance measured him from head to toe. There was a very similar board with keys above the man’s head. He suddenly jumped from behind his desk, reaching out for Lakarde’s bags.

“Lakarde von Bielefeld?” 

“Yes,” Lakarde nodded.

“Yes, yes,” the man ripped the bags out from Lakarde’s hands. “I’m the superintendent here. Name’s Lucius Ferboten.” He quickly lowered one of them to the ground to grab a key from the board and pocket it. “We were informed about your arrival. Let me show you the way.” He started walking down the corridor. “Most of the students are still out skiing.”

Lakarde followed the man. He was trying to memorize the turns and the doors that they were going past. The corridors did not seem to differ much from what Gwendal described. Clean but void of decorations, the few windows that they had passed were covered with curtains that looked decent but were very plain. Oil lamps hung here and there to dissipate the darkness, making it huddle in the grim corners. The walls he was passing had that particular smell of age that included something fusty, humid and dank all at the same time. Only the smell of urine was missing. But there was also the smell of something…something…

“Here,” the man stopped at the door marked with number 17. He lowered Lakarde’s luggage to the floor to fish out the key he had pocketed earlier. After unlocking the lock, he pushed the creaking door open to reveal a room submersed in blue shadowy light. It was being emitted by a pulsing orb on the desk next to the window.

Lakarde felt a gust of nausea. Automatically, he set the damn thing on fire.

The superintendent’s arm shot out. “Sssto…” He lowered his arm. He was a few seconds too late anyway; the room was now swallowed up in darkness. “You are not allowed to summon your element without permission. It’s in the rules,” he said. “It was just an alternative source of light. It’s harmless.”

Ignoring the superintendent, Lakarde snapped his fingers to call his fire element. “It nearly made me ill,” he said, walking into the room, followed by a floating tongue of flame. 

The Esoteric orb on the desk had become just a charred piece of useless rock. Lakarde prodded it with his finger. His mood dropped a few notches.

“So my roommate is a Human?” he asked. “Why?”

The superintendent carried the luggage in and put it onto the carpet. “There are no free rooms anymore. You came in the middle of the semester.” He walked back to the door. “The cost of the Esoteric Stone and the desk will be sent to the Prince Consort.”

“I am able to pay for them myself,” Lakarde said.

“Alright, I’ll prepare the bill,” the attendant said. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask me. Unpack your things for now. As you see, this bed,” he pointed, “is free. I think your roommate should return in an hour or so, so he will show you around.” He nodded and closed the door behind him.

Lakarde started unpacking his things. The room was as plain as everything he had seen in the academy until now. Two beds were pressed against opposite walls, a table at the window with one chair pushed up to it. There was also a wardrobe at the back wall. Next to it, right at the door, there was a chest of drawers with a mirror. The second chair, unused, was standing in the corner between the wardrobe and Lakarde’s bed. There was also a shelf filled with books over his roommate’s bed. A dingy list of the Academy rules – made up of twenty-something points – was pinned to the back of the door.

 

1\. Obey the administration.  
2\. Keep your room clean.  
3\. Fighting and cursing are not allowed.  
4\. Bathe regularly.  
5\. Food from the outside is not allowed.  
6\. Sexual relationships in the Academy are not allowed.  
7\. Pets are not allowed.  
8\. Outsiders without permission are not allowed.  
9\. Summoning one’s Element without permission is not allowed.  
10\. ……

Lakarde turned away without finishing reading what else was not allowed. From what Gwendal had told him, he knew that there always was a way. 

Once he was done unpacking, he sat down on his bed. It was cold in the room. Gwendal had warned him about this too; there were a lot of things Gwendal had told him about the Academy. 

Lakarde snuck under the covers to get warm and stared at the dark window. He supposed he should draw the curtains but did not want to move from his comfortable position. He put his chin on his knees. He was somewhat angry and bitter with his father for sending him here. He agreed that it could do him good, this new experience, but… Lakarde scowled at the dark room. 

Sure. Even being dead could do someone good. To someone else that was not you.

Lakarde woke up with a sudden start. His head shot up to stare at the red-faced boy who had just stepped into the room. The boy was holding a burning candle. Surrounded by an aura of pallid light, he quickly walked over to the table to set the candle down. He was slightly out of breath.

Without looking at Lakarde, the boy started to unwrap a long muffler from his neck. “Hell, I envy you,” he boy said. He tossed both it and his hat onto his bed and started unbuttoning his coat. “Lying sprawled out here happily while we had to work our asses off.”

Lakarde blinked his sleepy eyes at him. He sat up. He tried to discern the boy’s face but he could hardly see him in this half-light. The boy was taller and Lakarde presumed that he was also a few years older than him. He figured that, in the Academy, all Human boys were older than the Mazokus as Humans maturated slower and lacked behind with their mental capacities.

Annoyed, the boy motioned at the table. “And why the hell did you ruin my Stone? These candles are damn inconvenient… There have been a few accidents with students setting their rooms on fire.”

“It was an automatic reaction,” Lakarde mumbled. He yawned. “I’ll repay you for it.”

“Whatever,” the other boy said. He threw his coat in the direction of his bed. “It didn’t cost that much.” 

Lakarde scrunched his nose when his roommate took off his boots. He slid deeper into the bedding. The rusting of sheets made the other boy raise his head. He grinned at the shadowy figure on the bed.

“What a delicate flower.”

“Shut your trap. Go wash yourself or something,” Lakarde said. “By the way, where are the baths?”

The other boy groaned. “Oh sure, now you’ll want me to show you around.”

Amidst the sheets, Lakarde nodded.

“You, what element do you wield?”

“Fire and…”

“Lucky!” his roommate exclaimed. He shot to his feet, excited.

“Huh?”

The other boy gave Lakarde a scrutinizing look. “Don’t tell me you didn’t bring any water-bottles…?” he drawled. “Make my day and tell me that you did.”

“I did,” Lakarde nodded. Gwendal did tell him that during winter fire-wielders became the most appreciated residents in the Academy. He had also advised him to take a few water-bottles.

“Yes!” the boy struck his fist into the air victoriously. “No more cold nights!” He grinned. “I’ll go wash myself and then bring some water for you to heat it up.” He suddenly sounded uncertain, “You can heat it up right?”

“Of course, I can. And I’ll go with you. I also want to have a bath; I spent a few days on the journey.”

“Alright,” the boy nodded happily to himself while ransacking the wardrobe and pulling out a change of clothes. 

“Thanks for leaving enough place for my stuff,” Lakarde motioned at the wardrobe where he had stored his clothes; His roommate, after having been warned that he would have another boy living with him, had emptied half of it.

“No problem. I really didn’t expect it would be a Mazoku, though,” the boy chatted on. “I mean, usually they pair up the same race, just to avoid conflicts, if you know what I mean,” he gave a look at the bed where Lakarde sat, hunched. “You seem quite harmless, though,” he commented. “All Mazoku students live above,” he motioned his hand at the ceiling. “You will be the only Mazoku on the ground floor.”

“They said there were no free rooms,” Lakarde explained. He found himself not liking the thought of being the only Mazoku on the floor.

“Well, yeah. It’s the middle of the semester already.” Gathering the pile of clothes in his arms, the boy grinned. “Well, as long as it’s someone who wields fire, I don’t mind that much.” 

“Nice,” Lakarde sighed. He rolled out of the bed. The boy was a chatterbox; he did not particularly like the type, but at least the boy was not prejudiced. Lakarde picked up his towel and a few toiletries with clean clothes to change into after his bath. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I totally forgot,” the boy turned around to face Lakarde who had approached him. He found himself staring at his new roommate’s face. The blond boy was not tall, actually even below average height but… And there was something familiar about this face. Pulling himself together, he shifted the clothes to free his right arm. “And you’re quite a looker, aren’t you?” He stretched his hand out towards Lakarde. “I’m Rial von Torlance.” 

“Huh?” Lakarde blinked at him. Rial was just grinning at him stupidly. “Lakarde von Bielefeld. Nice to meet you,” Lakarde shook the proffered hand.

“Wait…” Rial drawled, his hand still absentmindedly shaking Lakarde’s. “The Bielefeld?” Now he knew of whom Lakarde had reminded him. “You know, my sisters are all crazy about you.”

“Huh?”

“Well, they have this picture; it’s not really accurate, though. I think Eliza wants to marry you or something.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you know, you’re handsome and nearly a prince. And she’s just a couple of years older than you. I am not sure about Marianne, she’s only seven but she sleeps with that picture under her pillow.”

Lakarde stared at him. “Why there are pictures of me in…Human territories? Where the hell are you from?”

“Toska, south of…”

“I know where Toska is. We ratified a peace treaty with you nearly ten years ago,” Lakarde cut him off. “Let go. It’s getting awkward.”

“Oh,” Rial let go of his hand. “Hehe, sorry.” He looked Lakarde up and down again. “Then it’s no wonder you were accepted.”

Lakarde said nothing to that. Rial was right. The Academy did not accept students in the middle of the academic year. Nonetheless, Wolfram von Bielefeld, Prince Consort, the legitimate husband of the King, was above any such petty rules. 

Lakarde turned to the door. “Let’s head for the baths.”

“They won’t believe me when I tell them you’re my roommate.” Rial wanted to go and blow out the candle, but it suddenly went out by itself. “You’re quite good at wielding your element, aren’t you?”

Lakarde glared in front of him at nothing in particular. “I suck at it. Do you actually ever shut up?”

“Not really,” Rial shook his head. He locked the door and secured the key inside his pocket. “So why did you came here in the middle of the semester?” he asked Lakarde who was walking in front of him despite the fact that Rial was the one who knew the way to the baths. “Which group are you in? Will you be able to keep up?”

“It’s none of your business,” Lakarde snapped.

“I bet you became unbearable and your father kicked you out,” Rial ventured a guess. He grinned at Lakarde who turned around to stare at him. “You seem the type.” His grin brightened at Lakarde’s glare. “Most of us got here like that. I said I wanted to have my own county and the next thing I know, here I am. My classmate wanted to marry this servant chick and was shipped off here a few hours after making that announcement. They think it will help us get rid of the thoughts they don’t want us to have, the discipline. Well, yeah, sometimes it’s so cold here, the only thing I can think about is setting fire to the damn place.” He grinned. “Just to warm up.”

Lakarde stared at him for a few seconds. The sudden realization of his father being just like any other lame and fallible parent stunned him. Wasn’t sending him here just Wolfram’s way of solving a problem by disposing of it? He had known, but not quite, not quite from this perspective. Not until Rial told him. 

Lakarde’s mouth opened and shut a few times soundlessly. Then he turned around and continued to walk. “I see…” he drawled. He wondered why it had taken him so long to push Wolfram off his godlike pedestal. And probably, if not for Amae, he would have never pushed him off at all.

“So what did you do?”

Lakarde felt shameful blush threatening to engulf his face. “Nothing much. Pretty the same.”

Rial shrugged. On the corner he overtook Lakarde and started leading the way to the baths. There were more boys heading in the same direction. Lakarde was receiving curious glances.

“Which year are you?” Lakarde asked Rial.

“Oh, it’s my first.”

“Seriously? How old are you?”

“Just turned sixteen. You?”

“Ten. Nearly eleven.”

“Quite young,” Rial commented. He gave Lakarde another evaluating look. “You Mazoku are sure not normal. A ten-year kid shouldn’t look like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s nearly the same age as me. There is this Mazoku kid in my group who is a little over eleven years,” Rial continued, “but I think you will be the youngest here now.”

Lakarde shrugged.

“I thought you were quite short for a boy. But now I think you don’t need to worry about your height that much. You are only ten after all.”

Lakarde glared at Rial’s back. “Who said I ever worried about it?” he snapped.

“Well, you should,” Rial chuckled. “It’s the second important thing after the size of a dick.”

Lakarde refused to react.

Rial shrugged again. “Well, yeah, it’s stupid but for some reason as soon as you say that, others unavoidably think that you have a dick of a size of a peanut. I can’t say I like that.”

They finally reached the baths and, luckily, Rial’s philosophical musings were cut off. With the stream of other students, Lakarde was sucked into a large steaming room. Its windows had their shutters barred, the only source of light being oil lamps, which randomly hung on the walls. Once inside, the smell of soap and detergents was overpowering. But there was another odor that was seeping through this mix and was tickling Lakarde’s senses – that of youth. 

Half-naked and nearly naked bodies were everywhere. The pool in the middle of the room was not big, most of the boys taking up benches around it, in the middle of scrubbing or getting ready to scrub themselves with rough sponges. Lakarde was immediately aware that the ones who were soaking in the pool were older than the rest.

“The third- and fourth-years,” Rial said, after noticing Lakarde’s eyes linger on the pool. “Don’t even come close to them. Mean bastards. Especially that red-hair. The name’s Atreus. He-” 

“Oh, yeah, one mean bastard,” Lakarde nodded. “‘He was wetting his bed till ten. Our servants were gossiping for a week after he left.”

“Oh really?” Rial grinned. “That is a very valuable piece of information.”

“Use it as you see fit,” Lakarde said, walking over to one of the empty benches. He sat down and put his clothes next to him. He undressed down to his underwear and arranged his towel and scrubbing sponge on his other side. After that, he leaned down to grab a wooden tub from under the bench then walked over to the pool to a tube where hot water was streaming from. After filling his tub, he carried it back to the bench. He could feel curious eyes linger on him. Whispers started. He was a novelty. 

“Want me to wash your back?” Rial called from the bench opposite Lakarde’s.

Lakarde regarded him with suspicion then nodded.

“I’m not attracted to men,” Rial informed him as soon as he saw Lakarde hesitate. He got up and took Lakarde’s foamy sponge. 

“Glad to know,” Lakarde said, turning around, displaying his back for Rial.

“So you also go for girls?” Rial asked, starting to scrub.

Uncertain, Lakarde nodded. He was not that sure about his sexual preferences. So far he had none of them.

“Your skin is kind of pale. You sure you don’t have any diseases?” Rial inquired.

“You sure you don’t want your teeth kicked out?” Lakarde asked politely.

“Ah, about teeth,” Rial reminded Lakarde, “don’t forget that we Humans don’t grow them back.”

“Even better.”

Rial grinned at Lakarde’s reddish back. There were about ten guys who were staring at Lakarde from different places in the room. The boys were curious about the new face. Besides, Lakarde was nice to look at. Rial could also hear Lakarde’s surname floating in the vapory air of the baths. He was not sure whether it was for better or for worse.

“You will definitely be popular here,” Rial said. “Here, done.” He held out the sponge for Lakarde to take. “Now do mine.”

He and Lakarde traded places. Lakarde started rubbing Rial’s back. Lakarde felt boys staring at him. He shifted uncomfortably. He had been to baths or to a lake countless times, but it was in the circle of the family and close friends. Standing only in a towel before unfamiliar faces and evaluating eyes was not a feeling he enjoyed. He could only calm himself down with a thought that most of them were no more clad than him.

To Rial’s surprise nobody tried to talk to Lakarde. They just watched them from a distance until he and Lakarde were done with their bath and left. If it had been another kid instead of Lakarde, he would have been poked, teased and made fun of. Just to welcome him. “Von Bielefeld’s” surname held power, though. People did not want to take risks.

As soon as he entered the room, Lakarde shivered. It was cold. The wind had shifted and now was blowing right against the window. Lakarde tried to towel his hair off as best as he could then gave up and summoned his fire element.

Rial, who was trying to find his woolen socks, turned to look at him. “Summoning your fire element without permission can get you a month of latrine duty.”

“Oh? Then you will probably have to forget your water-bottles,” Lakarde chuckled, dismissing his fire element, his hair already dry. The flickering light of a candle again engulfed both of them.

Pulling his socks on, Rial grinned at him. He watched Lakarde walk over to the tub of water that they had brought with them and set next to the door.

Squatting down to the floor, Lakarde put the water bottles onto the floor then summoned his fire element and lowered his hand into the cold water.

“How are we going to pour the water from the tub into the bottles?”

Rial went to the table and ransacked in one of the drawers. He held out his prize. “Using a mug.”

“Come here, you will hold the water-bottles while I’ll do the pouring.”

“Oh. Done already? You are fast.” Then he saw the steam coming up from the tub. He came up to Lakarde.

While Rial was holding the bottles, Lakarde filled them with steaming water.

“Hot,” Rial rubbed his reddish hands on his thighs after they were done. 

Lakarde looked at the window where the winds were picking up. “I will probably need to wake up in the middle of the night to heat it again.”

“Hmm…” Rial drawled when the two of them lay in their beds, snuggled into their wraps. “So do you have someone special you like?”

Lakarde rolled his eyes. “What’s with these questions? Now you won’t even let me sleep in peace, will you?”

“Suit yourself,” Rial shrugged, “I just thought you won’t be able to get a decent sleep tonight anyway. You kinda look like a beaten dog.”

“I don’t…”

“Oh, c’mon! I don’t want to wake up to your crying for your daddy and mommy in the middle of the night.”

“I won’t be cryin-!”

“Yeah, you’d better not be. My head hurt two days after that.”

Lakarde closed his eyes. He listened to the winds howling beyond the window. 

“No, I don’t,” he said a few minutes later.

“Huh?” Rial mumbled sleepily.

“I don’t have anyone special, moron.”

“Aww, no need to get so embarrassed,” Rial yawned. “I am sure you’ll find them here.”

“You?”

“Me what?” Rial asked.

“Do you have anyone?”

“Oh. Hmm… Do you know that in Toska men are not allowed to have relationships with men?”

“Eh? Why?”

“Uh. Why, you ask. I am not sure why. It’s considered amoral and dirty, I suppose. Not sure, never wondered why as I never came across this before. To tell you the truth, I was quite shocked after spending a few days here.”

“I think my father would have a few words to say about it being “amoral” and “dirty”,” Lakarde chuckled.

“The King, too, I suppose,” Rial agreed.

“Hmm… Yuuri is better at understanding Humans than most Mazoku are.”

“Yuuri? Ah, right, the King, Shibuya. I heard he’s half-Human.”

“Yeah, a pain in the ass, if you ask me.”

“You don’t get along?”

“Hmm… I suppose we do, but he’s… Hey, did you just steer the conversation away to a different subject?”

Rial chuckled. “Not really. I just think that the Mazoku King is more interesting than my love life.”

“Spare me.”

“Well, I had this girl back at home,” Rial sighed. “Now there’s this Kalara running after me. I can’t seem to shake him off.”

“Oooh? Sounds like a Mazoku name?”

“Oh yeah, wields wind. A colorful personality at that.”

“I bet it isn’t more colorful than yours.”

Rial laughed softly.

“Do you like him?” Lakarde asked.

“Not sure. But it’s quite a problem.”

“Hmm… Only if your parents find out. You can always say he’s your best friend. One of you can even become the other’s irreplaceable official advisor.”

Rial grinned at the dark room. “You’ll go far in this world, Lakarde. But things don’t go this way. Always hiding and pretending takes its toll. What kind of life would it be?”

“You don’t even know whether this infatuation of yours would last longer than a year. Why worry your head over this now?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Rial sighed. “I’ll just see where it goes.”

XXXXX

Cold. His feet were freezing. Lakarde roused slowly. He found himself curled up into a ball and shivering. The water-bottle was cold. He pushed the bottle out of the bed and tried to fall asleep again. He was not used to cold like this. He had traveled with his father and did quite a lot of training in harsh weather, but in the evenings he would sleep warmly.

Lakarde jerked as trumpets blared somewhere in the corridor. On the other side of the room, Rial groaned. He rolled out of the bed.

“What freakin’ time is it?” Lakarde growled out.

“Five in the morning. We only get to sleep in on Saturdays; till seven. It’s then when they allow visitors and have various events.”

Lakarde’s head hit the pillow again. “What is your schedule?”

“Wash, breakfast, classes, lunch, classes, training, dinner, homework, sleep. How do you like this?”

“I love it,” Lakarde scowled.

“What about yours?”

“Going to have a few tests.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, let’s meet in the main hall at lunch. They’ll let you have a break, too. I’ll show you around.”

“Thanks.”

XXXXX

Lakarde and Rial were walking down a corridor, Rial showing him around. They were in the main building where the lectures took place. It was as plain as the dormitory. The windows were wide, though, the corridors light. Lakarde figured that these large windows must be quite a pain in the winter. It was drafty.

“I think that’s about it,” Rial said as they were walking back. “Nothing much to see, just lots and lots of corridors.”

“Yeah, kind of really plain.”

The corridor erupted into the main oval hall with the stairs at the end of it that led upwards. There was a small platform in the middle of the stairs, then they branched into two sets and led further on to the first floor where they met again. There were about ten students of various ages moving along the corridor and on the stairs. Some of them showed interest in the newcomers, Lakarde receiving inquiring looks. Lakarde did not have his Academy uniform yet, so he was wearing the blue and gold uniform of the von Bielefelds.

The watchman was not here, and the boys were horsing about, some of them laughing and shouting, others just lounging about.

Lakarde and Rial approached the middle of the hall and Lakarde lifted his head to look at the enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. His roommate explained that the hall was used for events like celebrations or gatherings. Students would decorate the hall, bring chairs and benches and such.

“Watch out!”

Lakarde’s head shot up to see a flash of uniform flying over the railing of the stairs, then something whipped past him and smashed into his roommate, knocking him off his feet. Startled, Lakarde rushed to his roommate who lay sprawled on the floor about four meters away from where he had been standing. There was an older boy on top of him. He was trying to standing up. 

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, laughing. He finally climbed off Rial.

Rial grunted something. With Lakarde’s help, he tried to stand up, but the collision had dizzied him and after swaying for a few seconds he had to squat down again.

The upperclassman laughed. Friendly, he clapped the squatting boy on his shoulder. He bounced back to the stairs. Lakarde stood up. He did not know how the boy managed to slide down the stairs as he did, and it did not really interest him. The thing that interested Lakarde was that the idiot was going to do it again.

The upperclassman stopped when something caught his sleeve. He turned around and did not manage so much as to blink before a fist whammed in his face.

He staggered and Lakarde hit him again. Now he was down on the floor and Lakarde was straddling him. 

“What if he has a concussion, you asshole! And you’re already going back to knock someone else out?!” 

Lakarde stopped pummeling the upperclassman. Now he grabbed the boy by his lapels and was violently shaking him. He was just like a doll in the blond’s grasp. The older boy was as much hurt as he was stunned that a newcomer had dared lay his hands on him. His friends were still dining, but the way no one else interfered and just watched, made him realize that the students around them felt that Lakarde was right.

Lakarde jerked the older boy one more time and finally let go of him. He stood up and turned back to his roommate.

“I think we should go see a healer,” he said, seeing how Rial was still wobbling. “There’s one here, right?”

Rial nodded and, unsteady on his feet, with Lakarde supporting him around his waist, they turned back to where they came from.

XXXXX

“How are you feeling?” Lakarde asked Rial. He had come back to his room after he had finished his tests for today. 

The healer had said that Rial needed rest, so Rial did. He looked content. “I’m fine,” he grinned. “Skipping classes always does me good. How did it go for you?”

“I think I did pretty well,” Lakarde nodded, starting to unbutton his jacket. “I still have two days of tests left.” He tossed the jacket onto the chair at the table. He kicked his boots off and dropped onto his bed. He crossed his arms behind his head. He was tired. Before coming here he had no idea he would have to take these tests so seriously.

After a while, Lakarde was waked up by the sound of the door opening. It had already become dark in the room and he could only discern a shadowy figure. He summoned his fire element.

A Mazoku with green hair looked at the ball of fire that had materialized in the middle of the room. It was not hostile and, ignoring it, he turned to stare at Lakarde. 

“Who the hell are you?” the intruder demanded.

“Being the one sneaking into my room, you sure have nerve to…”

“He’s my new roommate,” Rial said, cutting Lakarde off.

“What?” the green-haired Mazoku gave Rial a hurt look. “I nearly begged you to let me stay in your room and...”

“Lakarde von Bielefeld. Von Bielefeld,” Rial repeated matter-of-factly, getting irritated. “And why should I even think about letting you stay in my room?”

“You must be Kalara,” Lakarde said, suppressing a yawn. The green-haired Mazoku was a few years older than him. Very likely he was already the fourth-or even fifth-year. Lakarde did not remember ever seeing him before.

Kalara squinted at Lakarde to see him better. “Ah. His Highness,” he muttered. “You sure look like your father.” Relieved and forgetting all about Lakarde, he turned to look at Rial. “So you stood no chance against von Bielefelds.”

“Yeah, he came and returned half the money,” Rial nodded. “So much for the luxury.”

Lakarde rolled his eyes. After he had received the superintendent’s bill for twice the sum of what an Esoteric Stone costs, it became clear to him why Rial used to have the comfort of living alone in a double room. Lakarde could not care less if his father learned he destroyed some stupid Esoteric Stone, but after giving some thought to it, decided to let it be. One could never know how things could turn out.

“I heard you were absent from your lessons,” Kalara said. “What happened?”

“Some idiot knocked me over,” Rial said. “I was told to rest which I did.”

“Feeling better?”

“Feeling just fine. No need to worry over me.”

Kalara sighed. “He’s an asshole, Lakarde, isn’t he? I’m dying to hear at least a word of thanks for visiting him, at least some sort of courtesy and all he does is just roll up like a hedgehog.”

“Don’t even think of dragging me into this,” Lakarde said, turning on his other side, pulling a cover over his head. The thought that the two idiots deserved each other crossed his mind. 

“Ha!” Rial snorted. “What thanks? Lakarde was the one to beat the crap out of the bastard! Where were you?”

Kalara snapped his fingers as if he had just understood something major. “Oh, so that’s why you’re sulking! I promise next time I’ll be the one to protect you and for you to hide behind.”

Rial looked around for something heavy. He weighed a candlestick in his palm.

Kalara gave him a promising smile. “You know, I might just let you hit me with it. Just to see you plagued by remorse.”

“Lakarde, please, set him on fire.”

“You know, Rial said he quite liked you,” Lakarde said while grinning at the wall before him. The two reminded him of his father’s close friend Kyota; just as these two, the man could never keep his idiotic smart-assed remarks to himself.

“Oh really?” Kalara chuckled.

“No, not really, but I think he does,” Lakarde said. “He seems quite at a loss for words when with you. Kind of disturbing.”

Kalara laughed. “Aww…”

XXXXX

Dimera was talking with one of is friends in the yard when he noticed a new face - to be more precise was almost blinded by a blond head that shone bright yellow among the snow. A short slim boy had just walked down the steps and entered the yard. He was carrying a shovel. With his chin, Dimera motioned at the blond.

“Who’s that?”

Dimera’s roommate squinted his eyes at the blond. Looking in the distance, Yemi covered them with his palm against the glistening snow. He shrugged then. “Don’t know him. He must have been newly transferred here.”

Dimera noticed that he was not the only one interested – many pairs of eyes were following the blond’s short journey across the yard and path to join the cleaning forces. Dimera turned back to his friend and also shrugged.

It was not common for the Academy to accept students in the middle of the term and the blond became the object of curiosity immediately. Despite that, Dimera was sure that the interest would dim pretty quickly, instead, it heightened and had even turned into something that gave of the feel of a mysterious delight. At first, Dimera wasn’t sure what had caused it, not until a few days later when he saw the blond from a closer range in one of the dorm’s corridors. The boy was obviously a Mazoku, seemed to be not much older than ten or eleven years, his body seeming even shorter and slighter from up close. It was the face that made him turn and stare at the blond’s back after he had passed.

After seeing the face he was immediately able to tell who the blond was – Lakarde von Bielefeld. He had seen the boy’s father a few times when their families were doing business together. Lakarde’s looks were much more petit and didn’t have that particular alluring taste to them yet, but were already similar to his father’s, the deep and large emerald eyes shining with strange intensity. Lakarde’s blond hair was wavier, and differently than his father’s, parted at the left side to fall over his forehead.

Dimera was sure that not that many students knew who Lakarde was, and the ones who knew that, didn’t spread it around so as not to dissipate everyone’s interest in the cute little boy and see where it would lead. Picking on or pursuing the son of the King’s wedded husband was a completely different thing than if it had been anyone else.

After that Dimera would catch the sight of the blond occasionally in one of the corridors or the yard. Only a few days later he got to know that Lakarde was still taking the tests that were needed to decide which year and group he would attend. 

A few days later, just at the beginning of their everyday lessons, Dimera was stunned to see Lakarde following his tutor into his classroom.

“This is Lakarde von Bielefeld,” the tutor announced while the blond stood in front of the classroom and bowed. “He will be in this group from now on.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Lakarde said over the murmur that had started after the introduction.

The blond straightened and cast a look over the classroom. He followed the tutor’s gesture towards the end of the classroom where a free seat was. Without uttering a word, Lakarde made his way through the row of tables and seated himself. He put his bag onto the table then looked at the books that lay on the tables around him. He found the same book in his bag and pulled it out.

The lesson was passing without much excitement, Lakarde spending most of the time gazing through the window while his newly acquired classmates were giving him curious looks. All of them were at least a couple of years older than Lakarde.

“Lakarde, are you listening?!”

The boy jolted in his seat. “Huh?” The incredibly green eyes concentrated on the tutor’s face. Lakarde stood up. “Can you repeat the question?” he asked the tutor. 

“I asked if you were listening, you…” the tutor gritted his teeth obviously wanting to add something but restraining himself.

Lakarde blinked at him. “No, I don’t think I was,” he said honestly.

A few boys in the classroom giggled. Dimera gave Lakarde a searching look. The boy must be soft in the head – now he would get additional work.

“Concentrate!” the tutor snapped. “How do you think you are going to pass the tests? You are already younger by a good couple of years than your classmates!”

Lakarde said nothing to that. 

Dimera had no idea why Lakarde was transferred to his group. The rest of the lesson Lakarde spent lazily staring at the map that was hanging over the board and didn’t seem interested in what was taught at all. That was irritating the tutor and he gave the boy twice as much as homework than the others. Lakarde didn’t say a word in protest. 

Despite how the entire group seemed to be waiting for something refreshing from their younger member, the next few days were uneventful. Lakarde was a quiet kid, albeit too shy and dull. He rarely talked unless asked and didn’t seem to be close to anyone. 

After a few days Dimera noticed that Lakarde seemed to finally return from whatever dreamland he had gone to earlier. He began to at last get into things, his eyes becoming livelier. There was that time when one of the lessons had ended and Lakarde approached the History lecturer. Surprisingly, the two of them spent half an hour, which had been intended for a break, discussing the effectiveness of the Murians’ strategy during the Eferian War. That was when Dimera realized that there was something wrong with how Lakarde came across and that there really must have been a good reason why Lakarde had been transferred into his group.

From that day forward Lakarde had finally woken up completely, his eyes following the History tutor from one place to another, the boy obviously being interested in what was said. He still seemed to be bored with Mathematics and languages but stopped zoning out. 

Lakarde appeared to be an incredibly zealous student. Despite his dullness and work habits there was hardly anyone whom Lakarde irked or annoyed. There was that strange feel of absolute calmness that sometimes seemed to seep through that layer of timidity and silence.

Lakarde, unlike others Mazoku, lived on the ground-floor of the dormitory. He lived with a boy whom Dimera had seen many times and who gave an impression of a chatty and friendly character. Dimera figured that the two must find it quite difficult to live together.

XXXXX

The thing that Dimera enjoyed the most in the Academy was the baths. But that was only during warm seasons, because other times, his chattering teeth, blue body and gooseflesh would overcome the excitement of so many naked bodies in one place. The insanely spacious baths were on the ground floor where the students intermingled every morning and evening.

Lakarde seemed to have gotten used to the unanimously enacted order of the sixth and fifth years going first, then the fourth and third following and only then the second and the first having their turn. There always were some spoiled and overconfident newbies with influential parents and higher status than others who tried to overcome this. None had succeeded.

Lakarde didn’t seem to think about anything like that, and while leaving the bathroom Dimera could see him waiting at the door with other first-year boys. He had expected Lakarde to try and use his recent transfer to the third-year classes as an excuse to get into the baths sooner than others, but it seemed that Lakarde was really a passive boy.

A similar order held forth in the canteen, the newcomers getting their food only after all of the older boys were served first. Lakarde was always slow and never hurried anywhere, and Dimera often saw Lakarde at nearly the very end of the queue. That would have been not so bad, but the thing was that each time after the break for the canteen Lakarde was always late for the following lesson. And he was always punished by getting more homework. At first Dimera felt sorry for the slow boy, but once, while lingering in the canteen, he noticed how after getting his food, Lakarde found a peaceful nook to sit down and, leisurely, started to eat. The siren calling the students to the next lesson howled, and Lakarde was calmly cutting his steak into peaces. Only then did Dimera realize that Lakarde didn’t give two shits about being late. Dimera felt as if he had finally grabbed an end to the entangled ball called Lakarde. All he had to do now was to start pulling that thread.

Despite being hardly sociable, Lakarde was highly popular due to his good looks. After the blond had been at the Academy for a while, there appeared rumors about Lakarde becoming the main object of interest in the bathroom. Dimera could imagine that – the blond was really pretty. A few boys tried to approach Lakarde, one even attempted to court him, but the blond always pulled away or pretended not to be aware of them. Dimera noticed that those attempts were becoming more and more insistent and he wondered what the blond was going to do about them. Soon someone from the guys was going to lose his patience.

One of those early mornings in the baths, Dimera, already done with his bath, was waiting for his roommate to come out. Leaning on the next wall right to the door, he noticed Lakarde nearby. The blond-haired boy was standing in the corner, almost directly under the lamp and reading something.

“Hey, Lakarde,” Dimera greeted after walking over. “The sun is not even up and you’re reading already…” 

Lakarde raised his head to look up at the other boy. He nodded at Dimera to acknowledge him then lowered his head again.

Dimera thought that it was a great opportunity to get to know more about the boy. “Aren’t you afraid of it getting wet?”

Lakarde raised his head again. “Huh? Wet what?”

Dimera tapped his fingers on the book in the younger boy’s hands. “The book, Lakarde, the book,” he chuckled as Lakarde said nothing to that and continued reading. Gods, the boy was absentminded!

“It sure gets on your nerves, this waiting every morning, doesn’t it?” Dimera asked.

Lakarde’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing, making Dimera gawk at the sudden change in the usually passive face. Lakarde snorted at him. “No, it doesn’t get on my nerves because I like sleeping in and I hate hot baths, so thank you very much, but everything’s just wonderful!”

Dimera pursed his lips in distaste. “Hell, I was just trying to socialize,” he muttered after a minute to Lakarde who had started reading his book again. “You know, converse? Do you even know what it means?”

Lakarde’s eyes were bright with emerald anger. “What you are doing now is not called “conversing”. It is called “pestering”.”

“Dimera, here! Let’s go!” 

Closing his mouth, Dimera turned around to see his roommate already leaving the baths and waving at him. Dimera gave another short look to Lakarde. “See you in the classroom, asshole,” he said before walking away. 

“Yeah, be gone, idiot,” Lakarde waved him off absentmindedly.

They didn’t really talk after that. They would still greet each other but that was it. Although, after catching Lakarde’s straying gaze concentrate on him absentmindedly for a few seconds longer than usual, Dimera felt as if he had achieved something, because mostly, Lakarde ignored his other classmates. Dimera was waiting for an opportunity to talk to him again but was not sure what to say – it was obvious that Lakarde was not one to like pointless conversations.

XXXXX

Dimera was walking back to his room when he stopped suddenly. He slapped himself on the forehead. “Crap, I forgot my sponge.” 

His roommate rolled his eyes. “Not waiting.”

Dimera snickered, smacking his roommate on the back of the head. “No one is asking you to.”

“Hey,” the boy protested while rubbing the place he had been hit. He chuckled at Dimera’s quickly receding back.

Dimera crossed the corridor then turned to the left and found himself watching a very common scene. A circle of older boys had surrounded a first-year who was standing at the wall near the entrance to the baths. There had obviously been some accident between him and the older guys who had just left the baths. A few students were lingering at the walls and around, watching the commotion.

“You pushed me, runt!”

Terrified, the first year stared at the boy whom Dimera knew from seeing him around and whom he knew to be a fourth-year. Atreus was the name. 

“I’m sorry, I… I stumbled and…” 

The red-head pushed at the younger boy’s chest, making him trip and hit the wall behind him. “Sure you did,” he snarled. He grabbed the first-year by the front of his shirt.

“C’mon, Atreus, let go of the boy. He is just clumsy.”

Dimera’s step faltered in the middle. He stared at Lakarde who had pushed himself off the wall where he had been waiting for his turn for the bath and now was walking over to the fourth-years. The boy who was holding the first-year by his collar looked at Lakarde in surprise, then grinned. 

“Oh, look, Lakarde’s here.” He laughed. “The pretty princess has come to rescue an ogre!”

Dimera could see that the fourth-year’s interest in the boy he was holding had disappeared completely. The fourth-year pushed his victim over to one of his pals to hold. He seemed to be excited about the opportunity that had presented itself. It was obvious that Lakarde and Atreus knew each other. It did not seem that they had been enemies, it rather looked as if Atreus was interested in Lakarde for absolutely different reason. Lakarde was going to get it.

Wide-eyed, Lakarde staggered back as the red-head’s hand shot out to catch his chin. His head was raised up. He blinked at the taller boy.

“Do you like the runt?” the fourth-year asked. “It seems to me I’d be of much greater use…” he grinned at Lakarde, trailing his other hand down the blond’s back and then squeezing a buttock in his palm.

Behind Lakarde, in the circle of the fourth-years, the first-year gasped and groaned as he was punched. He dropped to his knees while holding his stomach. And Lakarde was still staring at the fourth-year in front of him, openmouthed. Lakarde seemed to have gone into shock at the way he was being treated.

Dimera cursed softly in his head. He had no idea what he was going to do but his legs moved forward on their own. He was at least older than Lakarde and that other loser.

“Atreus,” Lakarde warned. “Get your fucking hand off my ass.”

Atreus grinned down at Lakarde’s angry face. “The princess doesn’t like something?” he patted the blond’s backside lightly. “Eeeeeeeephhh!” Grabbing at his crotch and slumping to the ground the next second, the fourth-year rolled on the floor.

“Yeah, I have some serious objections,” Lakarde said while lowering his leg down to the floor.

In a blink of an eye it started. Dimera hardly managed to reach the blond as the fourth-year’s friends, tripping over each other, launched themselves at Lakarde. One of them pushed Lakarde, making him stumble, but the next second the boy who had pushed Lakarde doubled over holding his stomach. The second one grabbed at his face, the blood from his nose spraying up as Lakarde’s roommate joined in the fight. The blond’s elbow flew into the third boy’s stomach. Dimera managed to grab the last one before he reached Lakarde. But the hall soon turned into chaos, more of older boys joining and then the younger ones and some Lakarde’s classmates coming to help him, Rial and Dimera. A few seconds later Kalara appeared in the doorway, observed the knockabout and decided that he was on Rial’s side, whichever side it was.

“Lakarde!”

Dimera had no idea who had screamed Lakarde’s name but was just in time to see Atreus summon his fire element. The lion sprang right at Lakarde and a few boys he was grappling with. 

It seemed that everybody in the hall had stopped breathing and time stilled. In complete silence, the lion was making its way towards the terrified boys. The silence was broken by the bathroom door bursting open and a water-dragon slamming into the lion. There was an earsplitting fizzle and the lion disappeared in a cloud of vapor.

Drenched, the boys turned to the fourth-year whose lion had disappeared. Despite the water-dragon looming threateningly near him, the boy seemed to be trying to summon something again. Then their attention went to Lakarde as the floor near him started sizzling. One after another, fire-lions started appearing around him. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. The animals’ ears pricked as Lakarde raised his hand. 

“What’s going on here?!”

All boys’ heads turned to the Mathematics lecturer at once. The boys straightened immediately. The lecturer’s eyes skimmed over hunching and shivering figures, drenched shirts and trousers sticking to them. It seemed that it was over already, whatever had happened. The huge dragon-form looming over one of the lone boys in the hall confirmed that.

“Whose dragon is this?” the tutor asked the fourth-year, pointing at the dragon at his side.

“Mine,” Lakarde muttered, flicking his wrist lightly, dispersing it.

The tutor turned to the short boy whom he recognized as von Bielefeld. He stared at Lakarde. As far as he knew the boy wielded fire. But as everyone else was silent there was no need to doubt the boy’s words. The tutor turned away to glare at the rest of the students.

“And the lions?”

Feverishly, Lakarde chewed on his lower lip. “Also mine.” He waved his hand to disperse them.

Stunned, the tutor stared at him. The short boy didn’t raise his head to look at him. He felt the urge to grab a handful of that blond hair and force the boy to look at him, but after having seen the demonstrated power of von Bielefelds, the thought was squashed as soon as it appeared; no good would come from provoking the kid.

“Everybody, into the training hall!” the tutor yelled. “You,” he pointed at a random boy, “get me the superintendent!”

Clothes and hair dripping, waterlogged shoes squeaking, the crowd of boys followed the tutor docilely. It had been over before the tutor had shown up. After the fourth-year had summoned a fire-lion, the deadly danger had made all of them regain their presence of mind. All of them had been ready to gang up on the fourth-year for trying to summon something again, but Lakarde was the first one to put an end to it while demonstrating an obvious power difference.

The scolding lasted more than an hour. Lakarde and Atreus were put in front of the hall. The fourth-year had already started crying while being led in front of the crowded students. Lakarde stood with his head lowered, but it didn’t seem that he was worried, he just stood there silently while exploring his, the tutor’s and the superintendent’s boots. 

The only change visible in the blond’s stance was the jolt when the tutor said that they would inform the parents about what had happened. Only then did he seem to finally get worried.

When the grown-ups had finally grown tired of the entire ordeal, the boys were punished by leaving them to stand in those drenched clothes until the evening.

When the sun had finally started setting, they were allowed to go back to their rooms. Dimera left the hall and stood farther from the door while waiting for Lakarde to come out. The mass of the boys passed him, but Lakarde was nowhere to be seen. Finally, Dimera went back into the hall. Lakarde just stood there at the door with his head lowered and staring at his boots, oblivious to anything around him. Then Dimera saw Lakarde slide down the wall and rub his face furiously.

“Father’s going to kill me…” Lakarde groaned softly.

Dimera didn’t know if he should approach the other boy. But his question was answered when Lakarde froze then moved his hands from his face and lifted his head to look at him. His gaze was blank.

“Are you alright?” 

After the question, Lakarde’s gaze shifted from blank to somewhat amused. “Do I look okay to you?”

Dimera approached the blond then sat down next to him. “Is your father really that strict? It wasn’t even your fault.” Lakarde lowered his hands to his sides to rest his palms on the floor. His head reclined with a thump on the wall. “What will he do?”

The blond rolled his head to the side to look at him. “Probably nothing.”

Confused, Dimera blinked at Lakarde’s bitterly smiling face. It was probably the first time he saw the other boy smiling. But it wasn’t the real thing yet.

“I promised him I wouldn’t cause any trouble.”

“Hmm…” Dimera drawled. “Sooo… It doesn’t include any beating or anything?” By the way Lakarde stared at him with his green eyes wide, it was obvious that the blond hadn’t even thought of that; he had missed it by a great range.

“No…” Lakarde rolled his head from one side to another to deny it. “I just didn’t want to… Well, didn’t want to…”

“…Disappoint him?”

Lakarde nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t think it will happen. And even if it does, you can’t change anything, right?”

Lakarde shrugged. “True.” He gave a long tortured sigh and got up slowly. “But it still sucks.” 

Just before he intended to leave the hall, with a sudden shock, Lakarde realized that he had spoken to a stranger about his family and his relationship to his father. That shouldn’t have happened. Unsure, he stood there next to the still sitting Dimera for a few seconds. “Forget it,” he said suddenly. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Anytime,” Dimera said to the blond’s retreating back.

TBC


	24. Part 24

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com)

Part 24

His Highness, the Royal Consort arrived two days later. With interest, the students clung to the windows as a fancy carriage pulled by six horses turned into the yard of the Academy. It stopped right at the main entrance. A guard rushed to open door of the carriage, and revealed the King’s wedded husband, the second most powerful man on the planet.

Wolfram von Bielefeld stepped out of the carriage and started walking towards the entrance. Fascinating. The way the man moved, with grace and self-confidence, was enthralling. The class fell completely silent when the prince’s luminous green eyes rose upward to skim over the windows filled with mesmerized students.

Awestruck, Dimera turned to look at Lakarde. Would a day come when Lakarde would be just like…? With a sharp intake of air, Dimera’s thoughts stopped abruptly. Everybody in the classroom was staring at Lakarde. Unlike them, Lakarde had stayed sitting in his place.

“What?” Lakarde glared at them. 

The lesson was resumed, but a few minutes later, Lakarde was called out of the classroom.

XXXXX

“Father.”

Lakarde closed the door behind himself tightly. He was being shaken by a nervous apprehension but also was relieved that his father came to see him first instead of the head of the Academy. He was grateful to his father for wanting to hear everything from his mouth before getting the story from anyone else.

Wolfram nodded in greeting. His eyes followed his son silently. Lakarde looked like hell. “Lakarde.” He motioned for his son to sit down on the couch. Wolfram walked over to the table where various carafes stood. “Want anything? Some wine?”

Lakarde chewed on his lower lip. “You know I can’t drink yet.”

Wolfram rolled his right shoulder. “One has to start one day. Here,” he held out a glass with a little wine in it. “How is your foot?” He asked while pouring himself one. He had been informed that Lakarde had injured his foot during the fighting.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

Wolfram filled the glass to the brim and sat down onto the couch next to Lakarde. He didn’t want to push his son yet, but there was no time for subtleties.

“So, I’d like to hear what happened.”

Stalling for time, Lakarde brought his glass to his lips to take a sip. The liquid felt pleasant and slid easily down his throat.

“It was self-defense,” Lakarde muttered.

Wolfram nodded. “So I heard. But you almost killed him.”

Lakarde raised his glass to look at the pale gold liquid. “If I wanted him dead, he would be dead.”

Wolfram flicked Lakarde lightly on his forehead with his palm. “Don’t be arrogant, son.”

With his fingers, Lakarde touched his forehead where he had been slapped. Surprised, he removed his hand and stared at his palm. “I’m not being arrogant. I only stated the truth. The only thing I did was summon my elements. I did not even give the order to attack him.”

Wolfram eyed him. “Living in a society with so much power is not an easy thing to do.”

Lakarde sighed tiredly. “I know that already. I wouldn’t have killed him, really. He was summoning something and I just…” he trailed off. “I suppose all I was thinking about was beating off the oncoming attack and leave him no possibility to counterattack. But I wouldn’t have killed him.”

Wolfram watched his son sipping the wine. Lakarde looked drained and seemed to have come to terms with the possible outcome. Kyota had been right – Lakarde needed a bit different handling than he had thought previously. “Be more aware next time.”

Lakarde gave him a confused look but nodded. “Of course.”

“So what happened?”

Lakarde was silent again, his lips pressed firmly together. 

“Lakarde…”

“It was nothing important. Just a small scuffle.”

Wolfram started losing his patience. He couldn’t ever remember his son opposing him. “Lakarde…”

Wolfram turned to the door that opened after a soft knock. He hadn’t given permission to enter. Standing in the doorway was a boy a little older and taller than Lakarde. He had short dark blue hair and striking eyes of the same color. His features were quite sharp already and it was obvious that a few years later they would become even more so. He had thin lines of dark and strict eyebrows. Due to his coloring Wolfram immediately identified him as a Mazoku. The young man gave a deep bow. He seemed to be resolute about whatever he was intending to do.

“Your Highness,” he started, “may I speak?”

Wolfram thought about rebuking the youngster and sending him the hell away, but the way the boy cast a worried look at Lakarde made him falter. This was getting interesting.

“You may. Only it would be nice if I knew your name.”

The blue-haired youngster blushed fiercely. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m Dimera von Rikota.” He gave another deep bow.

Wolfram was intrigued. He knew von Rikotas – they were a very rich and influential family which shared a border with von Voltaire’s lands. He had business with some of them on and off and they had made a quite pleasant impression on him, which was not that common.

“Alright, Dimera,” Wolfram nodded. “What did you want to say?”

The boy straightened. “Lakarde was not the one to start the fight. The other boys started picking on Sarik. He accidentally tripped one of the boys, then Lakarde came to help him and the fight started and…”

“…You joined in,” Wolfram finished for him, pointing at the Dimera’s scratched cheek. “Now, what are the names of those who bullied that Sarik? And who the hell is Sarik?”

Dimera wavered. “Sir…” he drawled.

“Listen,” Wolfram snapped, “I’m not going to run back and forth from home each time you brats punch your snotty noses. Let’s deal with this once and for all. Who was first to assault Sarik?”

“Well, I’m not sure, b…”

“Dimera, keep your mouth shut.”

Wolfram gave his son a scorching glare, almost regretting having been so lenient with him. After turning back to Dimera, he saw the boy’s eyes running back and forth from him to Lakarde. It was obvious that now the boy wasn’t going to speak. 

“Fine, whatever!” Wolfram threw up his hands. He had no time for this. “You can go, Dimera.”

“Thank you, Sir.” With a bow, Dimera left the room.

Sighing, Wolfram pushed himself off of the couch and crossed the room, his boot heels ringing on each stride. Reaching the table he sat his glass down, toyed with the idea of pouring himself more wine, but decided no and sat down at the table. Feeling that all of this wasn’t worth the effort, and already losing interest, he tapped his fingers on the table. “You know, you could invite Dimera to visit us. He seems to be quite an interesting boy. From a good family, too.”

Lakarde’s stony facial expression crumbled instantly, his skin flushing red. Wolfram gave him an amused grin; youngsters were so easy to figure out, their emotions bare to anyone who wanted to see them. He waited for Lakarde to answer, but, just as he expected, got nothing.

“Do you want to leave here?” Wolfram asked.

Nervous, Lakarde shook his head. “Of course, no. Now it would look as if I were running away.”

“It is also something that one could call a strategic retreat. There is no need to stay here if you hate it.”

“I want to stay.”

“Alright, you can stay,” Wolfram nodded, noticing relief pass over Lakarde’s face. Reaching out, he lifted the wine bottle and held it out in invitation. “Want some more?”

Lakarde nodded. “Thank you.” He held out his empty glass for his father to take.

A few minutes later, from the chair, one elbow propped up on the table and his head resting on his hand as he watched his son sipping the wine, Wolfram grinned. “You know, you could at least look as if you got scolded. Just to keep things in balance…”

Lakarde blushed lightly. “I… I want to thank you, Father. For…”

Wolfram chuckled, waving that off. He got more serious then. “Lakarde, I won’t control your activities. But I demand that you don’t do anything drastic. It is for your own sake.”

Lakarde nodded. “I understand, Father.”

“Another thing. The boy who attacked you, he might… Don’t attack him first, but…”

Lakarde hid a biting smile behind his glass. “…But if he is first to come at me, I’ll make him regret that he ever set eyes on me. After this incident, it will be much simpler to manipulate everyone. All of it will obviously be his fault.”

Frowning a bit, Wolfram sipped his wine. “And where the hell did you get that cunning, eh?”

Lakarde raised his glass to toast him. “I learned from the best.”

“What did I say about being arrogant?”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Lakarde apologized.

Wolfram sighed. It was way too late to try to nurture his son. Besides, Lakarde had only stated the truth anyway.

XXXXX

Dimera was not so sure what to think about himself. Here he was, in the conference hall, hiding in the cabinet and praying that nobody would open it. He had no idea either how a request to go to the bathroom had turned into this. 

The Royal Consort, the head of the Academy and the superintendent had secluded themselves in the conference hall a few minutes ago and now were getting done with the formality of greetings. 

“Can I get you something, Your Highness?”

“Yes, please.”

“White, red wine, liqueur or…?”

“Thank you, white wine would be fine.”

Dimera heard someone approaching the table that was near the cabinet, then the clinking sounds of glassy containers were heard.

“Your Highness, no matter how unpleasant it is, let us discuss the reason for Your Highness’ visit today,” the head started.

“Yes,” von Bielefeld agreed. “First of all, I would like to say that I appreciate such a quick resolution to the incident. It seems that you have dealt with the situation in the best way possible.”

“Thank you. Nonetheless, I must say that I am a little worried about Your Highness’ son’s actions during the incident.” Dimera knew that tone of voice. It appeared that the Academy Head was being very careful in how he expressed his concerns.

“Oh, there is nothing to worry about,” came the smooth reply. “Lakarde has assured me that it was nothing more than self-defense.”

“Your Highness, I have been informed that the amount of power that the boy had used was excessive and dangerous to the surrounding students.”

In the cabinet, Dimera shook his head in disagreement.

“On the contrary.” Dimera could hear the clink of a glass being set down. “I was informed that the culprit who began this entire incident endangered all the students by summoning his fire element. My son was the one who eliminated the danger and made sure that the culprit would not be able to repeat his actions.”

There was a long pause during which it became clear to Dimera that Wolfram von Bielefeld would rather burn the Academy to ashes than let someone lay a finger on his son.

“I see…” the Head drawled.

“I’m glad you do.”

There was a pregnant pause again.

“There is no need for commendation, of course,” von Bielefeld’s voice had an amused note in it. “But Lakarde said that his foot does not hurt anymore, and I would be glad if you made sure he attends the physical education classes.”

“Yes, Your Highness. But there is another thing I am concerned about.” The Academy’s Head paused a moment before he continued. “Your Highness’ son is able to use two elements and I wanted to inquire about the boy’s stability.”

Dimera heard the sofa creak which must have shown von Bielefeld’s irritation. “I thought we already discussed this before I submitted the documents for Lakarde’s admission.”

“Well, yes, Your Highness, but at that time I didn’t know that neither of his elements is dormant. And after the accident I was informed that he was able to use them both astonishingly well.”

“True,” a note of pride could be heard threading its way through the response. “It is hard to tell the difference, although his water element is more passive.”

“It does not happen very often that a person is able to use a couple of elements so well and still be…stable,” the head insisted.

“That is true,” von Bielefeld agreed again. “Lakarde…” he trailed off.

Von Bielefeld seemed to be looking for the right words, and Dimera found himself anxiously waiting for the long pause to end.

“Lakarde can deal with tension or fast changing situations unexceptionably well,” the prince said finally. “But he tends to snap if provoked. Then he is aggressive and dangerous to surrounding people. Do not try to take him down by force in that case. Your best course of action would be not to even try talking to him, just leave him alone to cool down. He calms down pretty fast.”

“I see…” the head drawled. “It is a quite serious problem…”

“Any past incidents have not been very serious and all kinds of accidents happen to all people; we all snap at one or another point,” von Bielefeld noted. “There is no reason for being overly concerned. Of course, my husband can use all four elements pretty well and nothing has happened that would suggest that His Majesty is not stable.”

Dimera heard the quick intake of breath that told him that the Head tensed up after the mentioning of the king. At least von Bielefeld’s words had that effect on him. He was not so sure if von Bielefeld had used this only as an example or as a means to shut the Head up. In any case, it seemed to work.

“I understand Your Highness’ position. As long as the boy has not caused any trouble, everything is fine.”

“Good.” The word oozed a false pleasantry. “Another thing. Make sure that the boy who attacked my son does not repeat that mistake again, or there might be some really serious trouble; Lakarde is a vindictive boy. We might not be so lucky next time.”

“I understand, Your Highness.”

There was a pause again.

“Lakarde is a good and disciplined child,” von Bielefeld said. “The problem is that some situations in life call for a bit different handling. All in all, I think he did quite well. Now, if you still feel that the boy must be punished – just make him join the chorus. That should make everyone happy.”

The Head was silent for a few moments and Dimera thought that he was wondering as well whether von Bielefeld was serious or not.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

XXXXX

Wolfram von Bielefeld left the same day he arrived as if he had never been there. The next day the lessons were resumed and it didn’t seem that anything had changed.

“Lakarde,” the tutor called out after the lesson had ended, “will you stay for a moment?”

“Yes, Sir.” Lakarde walked over to stand before the tutor.

“I was asked to tell you that at six o’clock you are expected to be in the music chamber.”

Dimera noticed Lakarde’s eyes widen and realized that Wolfram von Bielefeld knew his son pretty well.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Lakarde nodded finally. He slumped onto the instructor’s desk after the tutor walked away. “Damnit, Father,” he groaned.

“Hey, it can’t be that bad.”

Lakarde started. He raised his head to look at Dimera. He shrugged then. “You haven’t heard me sing yet.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll have an opportunity later today.”

“Hmm?”

Dimera grinned at him. “Well, yesterday I joined the chorus.”

“You knew.” Then Lakarde realized that Dimera choosing to enter the chorus did not surprise him in the least. As if he had almost expected it.

“Yes, I heard your father and the head talking about it.”

Lakarde laid his head back onto the desk and stared at the wall in front of him. “My father said I should invite you to visit us.”

“Oh.”

“He also said you were quite an interesting boy. Coming from him it means he liked you.”

“That’s nice. So…will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Invite me to visit you?”

Lakarde sighed. He rolled his head so that he could see Dimera. “I just did, idiot.” He shrugged as Dimera chuckled at that. “I think both of our families would benefit if the ties between them were strengthened.” Lakarde saw the other boy frown at that. Lakarde sighed again then put his chin on his hands while his gaze concentrated on the blackboard. “It’s not that. I… Well, I think I’m not interested in those kinds of…activities yet.”

“You mean sex?”

Lakarde pursed his lips then ruffled through his hair to hide his discomfort. Dimera, for some reason, made him always feel uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

Dimera gazed down at the other boy’s shoulders for a few moments then shrugged. “It’s not a problem. I can wait.”

“I think I like women better.”

Dimera burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

The other boy grinned at him. “Lakarde, your excuses won’t work on me. Don’t give me that bullshit, alright? You may be not that interested yet, but I’ve seen you checking out a few boys in the baths.”

Lakarde blushed fiercely. He was not sure what to say, so just put his chin back onto his hands and remained silent. The silence seemed to stretch for quite a long time. Dimera shifted next to Lakarde and the blond closed his eyes while trying to think of something to say. 

“I…” Lakarde’s breath caught in his throat suddenly, and he tensed. Something…something was touching his nape and it was warm and wet and it was moving down his neck, to the collar. Dumbfounded, he stared in front of himself. The heat that instantly spread over his face and entire body made Lakarde dizzy. And Dimera’s mouth was still…and now his hand… 

“Hey, Dimera, where the hell… Oh…”

Dimera raised his head to see his roommate giving him an apologetic look for intruding. The boy turned to go. “I’ll just…”

They both looked at Lakarde who suddenly grabbed his bag. The boy shot around the desk and sprinted past Dimera’s roommate and out of the classroom without a glance back.

Dimera leaned on the desk, sighing. “Great timing, asshole.”

His roommate scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Heh. Sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” Dimera muttered.

“Hmm...” the boy cast a look over Dimera who was gathering his books from his desk a row farther away. “You seem to be pretty serious about him,” he wondered.

“Of course. He is the man whom I’m going to marry.”

“Idiot.” 

Dimera grinned. “Why? He said his father himself approved of me.”

“Sure,” his friend snickered. “He just went and said: You’re welcome to have a go at my minor son.”

Dimera scratched his head. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“Don’t you worry about it,” his friend said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “The worst that can happen for touching the son of the Prince Consort is just to get beheaded.”

Huffing, Dimera leaned back on his desk. “Yeah, even I don’t have the balls for that.” He shrugged then. “Well, a couple of years won’t change much. I can wait.”

XXXXX

Lakarde blushed lightly when after opening the door to the music room he met Dimera’s eyes. Lowering his head, he turned to the row of chairs that stood on the other end of the room. Ignoring the other boy, he passed him and sat down. The teacher was not here yet, the boys that had gathered horsing about.

“Hey.”

Lakarde gave an acknowledging nod to Dimera who had approached him. The blond wasn’t sure how to act while the other boy was taking a seat next to him.

“Can’t you sit somewhere else?”

Dimera gave him a scrutinizing look. “Wow. That’s a quite impressive way to kick one in his balls.” He frowned as Lakarde didn’t say anything. “C’mon, did I give you that much of a scare that you won’t even talk to me now?”

“Dimera?” Lakarde said finally turning to look at him. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

Dimera turned sideways and leaned closer to him so that others wouldn’t hear. “For the same reason you’ve wanted me to,” he said softly.

“I did not w…!” Lakarde fell silent as he saw Dimera chuckle. The older boy was only teasing him. “Asshole,” Lakarde muttered.

“Well, let’s just say, I’ve wanted to do that since that fight in the baths.”

“What a load of bullshit.”

“Oh, this isn’t bullshit, no.” Dimera leaned in to whisper to him. “And I will make you realize that I’m serious about you.” 

Lakarde stared at him for a few seconds then turned away unimpressed. The door opened to let the tutor in. 

“There are at least ten other boys who swore the same fucking thing to me,” Lakarde said in an annoyed tone. 

“You’re just bragging now. And none of them was as serious as me, though.”

Lakarde’s head snapped to him. “Look me in the face!” he hissed suddenly. 

Dimera inhaled sharply as he was grabbed by the front of his shirt and pulled closer to Lakarde. 

“You know, if you want something pretty to look at, I’ll give you my picture,” Lakarde growled out. “It wouldn’t require so much effort in waging your tongue either.” He shoved Dimera away from him. He gave a short smile to the tutor and the boys who were looking at him and Dimera. The tutor turned away.

“You are mistaken, Lakarde,” Dimera said softly while fixing his shirt. “I’m serious about you.”

“Shut the hell up. The tutor is looking at us.”

“We have two new students today,” the Music tutor said. “Dimera von Rikota and Lakarde von Bielefeld. Let’s welcome them.”

“Hello,” Lakarde stood up. He bowed. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Dimera here,” Dimera waved his hand after standing up. “Hello again.”

“Yes, Dimera,” the tutor nodded. “After seeing your name on the list again I did have a question. What are you doing here? I thought two years ago you quit for good?”

“I did pay for that piano, didn’t I?” Dimera muttered.

“Well, you did. But I will toss you out again if you as much as touch anything in this room.”

“That’s fine,” Dimera glared at him. “I’ll try not to.”

The tutor shrugged. “Well, okay. I’d like to hear our new students sing or show some other musical activity. Dimera, as I know perfectly well that the only thing you are good at is breaking musical instruments, you can join the boys over there,” the tutor pointed at the tables next to the piano. “Come here, Lakarde. You will sing gamut, and Kiara will play the piano.”

Lakarde was looking at the piano as if it were his most hated enemy. “Alright,” he said finally while coming up to it. “I must warn you that you won’t enjoy this.”

Kiara started playing and the entire room went silent when Lakarde opened his mouth and started to sing.

The tutor seemed to have gone into shock.

With his eyebrows raised, Dimera stared at the blond. Then he covered his mouth with his hand so as not to burst out laughing. The boys around him were sniggering quite openly. There were some people who couldn’t and should never be allowed to sing. Lakarde was one of them. He was not only tone-deaf, he also had no voice. 

“Why did you actually join?” the teacher asked Lakarde timidly after the boy had finished the gamut. He was afraid to even think that he was going to have to work with the boy.

“I didn’t. Someone, namely my father, thought that it would be a great way to entertain everybody.”

“You sure did,” Dimera grinned at him. “You know,” he said, “I think they will regret having ever let you step into this room.”

Lakarde said nothing then, just sighed.

“Well… You do realize that you are a rather hopeless case?” the tutor asked. He ruffled through his hair rather edgily. “I don’t think even a fifty-year practice would do much good…”

Lakarde rolled his eyes. “I know that. Nobody in my father’s bloodline has ever been any good with music. Or art. It’s like a genetic defect.”

The tutor clapped his hands, relieved and in high spirits again. “Good! Then there’s no problem. You just sit quietly and pretend that you are greatly interested. If there’s a concert – we’ll put you in the background and you just mouth the words. Remember – don’t ever try singing. Alright?”

Lakarde grinned up at the tutor. “Sounds perfect to me.”

OoOoO_ABOUT TWO YEARS LATER_OoOoO

Lakarde watched Eleonora getting into the carriage assisted by servants. He was still ruffled by the amount of time she had taken to prepare. It took an average man twenty minutes to get up, dress, have breakfast and saddle a horse. It had taken an hour for Eleonora simply to dress.

Wolfram watched the discontent reflect on his son’s facial features. He suppressed a chuckle. So much for his Entrusted Lady’s tries to find Lakarde a noble girlfriend.

“Why do I have to accompany her?” Lakarde whined as if on cue. “She’s driving me crazy with her idiotic talk about fashion and bedroom decorations. Can’t you do that?”

Wolfram shook his head in disbelief. Was Lakarde really that clueless in this department? On the other hand, he had also been a late bloomer. 

“Well, I obviously did not invite her for my personal amusement…” Wolfram drawled.

Lakarde’s eyes widened as it finally dawned on him.

Wolfram sighed. “Do you think that I go for girls thirty years younger with underdeveloped bodies?” 

“Only for cute boys.”

Wolfram and Lakarde turned around to see Amae grinning at them.

“Hey, welcome,” Wolfram nodded, chuckling. “Got my invitation to Yuuri’s birthday?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Amae winked. “Lots of wine and drunk naked men dancing on tables.”

“I’m not sure about Yuuri letting it go as far as that, though,” Wolfram laughed.

The lack of respect Amae showed to his father and to him irritated Lakarde. His father’s familiarity with the former concubine danced on his nerves even more.

“You have grown,” Amae said to Lakarde, giving him a scrutinizing look. “Some two millimeters, I recon.”

Lakarde offered him a smile. “You have something between your teeth. Just there.” Lakarde reposted.

“Oh!” Amae gasped. He started picking at his fore-teeth. “Where is it? Where?”

Wolfram looked at his son. The lad was going to go far. “There’s nothing there, Amae.”

“Little ba-” Amae closed his mouth. “Such a cute boy,” he patted Lakarde on the head.

Wolfram could imagine that if Lakarde had a sword at his side, he would probably have cut Amae’s hand neatly off. He had no idea why Amae liked messing around with his son. 

Lakarde opened his mouth to say something but it closed shut as soon as his eyes set on three carriages rolling in through the gate. Each of them had a lily and a sword on their doors – the coat of arms of von Rikotas.

The carriages stopped at the main entrance, at the bottom of the stairs where the three men were standing. Wolfram noticed Lakarde’s eyes linger on every person climbing out of the carriages. He knew perfectly well who Lakarde was looking for. Wolfram was sure that Dimera came, because while writing the invitation he had made sure that Dimera’s name had been included right next to his parents’. He figured that von Rikotas would have taken their oldest son with them even without the special invitation (just as all the families that had children of similar age to Lakarde did) but he had wanted to make sure.

Finally, Lakarde noticed a blue-haired youth jumping out of the carriage. Dimera felt someone looking at him and turned around. He offered Lakarde a short smile when their eyes met.

Lakarde smiled back awkwardly, and Wolfram suppressed a chuckle. Eleonora’s one-hour-lasting dressing-up and entire existence was mercilessly wiped out by one short offhand smile.

“Why don’t you ask that von Rikota boy to join you and Eleonora?” Wolfram suggested innocently. “He might draw her attention to himself and you will be saved.”

Lakarde gave him an accusing look, and Wolfram realized that his son was not as clueless as he thought. Chuckling lightly, Wolfram offered his son an apologetic smile. Without saying a word, Lakarde went downstairs to join Eleonora in the carriage for a few hours ride in the park.

“Do I smell romance?” Amae, who had seen Lakarde’s reaction, interested.

“Depends on which one you’re talking about.”

“The von Rikota boy, as you called him, of course. Is it a good family?”

“And what do you care?” Wolfram wondered. He turned to go back into the Castle. “Yes, they are pleasant and smart people,” he said without waiting for Amae’s answer.

“Noble, rich and with a good background?” Amae translated, following the blond into the hall.

“Yes, that too,” the prince nodded.

“Hey, quite a catch, then.”

“Yeah, I am of the same opinion.”

“And their thoughts, of course, are running in exactly the same direction as yours,” Amae chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

Wolfram nodded. “It all depends on Lakarde, though. I am not going to force him. I’m just going to make sure they have opportunities to meet each other and know they would be approved of.”

“Wolfram?”

“Hm?”

“How does it feel to have a son? Well, a child, I mean.”

Wolfram stopped. He turned around to face Amae. “It’s strange,” he said a few seconds later. “It’s like I can never get used to the idea that this person made of blood and flesh was born because of me. My son.” He gave Amae a confused look. “It’s…hard to explain. It’s like one moment you are alone and then there’s this new life that calls you “father”. Sometimes I catch myself staring at Lakarde in disbelief and wondering whether he’s really my child. Ah, I mean…”

Amae nodded. “I understand. It was the same for me and Faraya’s daughter. I could not stop wondering about it. Just… That’s the wonders of nature for you,” he drawled. “And it was also strange to get used to you having a child.”

“I suppose for women it’s easier. They carry them inside and…”

Amae chuckled. “Easier he says. Did you ask your Entrusted Lady whether it was easy?”

“I mean they already have a strong connection and kind of…are more used to the thought that it’s really there, solid and…”

Amae grinned at him. “I bet you were one of those newly-baked fathers who nearly chew their fingers off while their woman is giving birth. And then you probably went to check the cradle every five minutes just to be sure it has been born and was still there.”

“Well, yeah, probably you could say that,” Wolfram sighed. “I think I was in constant panic that something might go wrong. Like him having one arm too many or not enough or be born with some illness.”

Amae nodded. “It’s normal, I suppose, especially when it’s your firstborn. Actually, how does he cope with two elements?”

Wolfram shrugged. “I think it’s fine. His moods have stabilized. He did not become more sociable and he still tends to snap as soon as provoked, but it’s nothing major. It doesn’t seem that there’s any danger of him losing control over his elements.”

“Yeah, it’s fun to tease him.”

“Don’t overdo it. He might try to fry you one day.”

XXXXX

People were hushed and listening to the Prince Consort congratulating his husband, the King, on his forty-fifth birthday. After Wolfram had wished Yuuri strength, health and all that’s best, the two shared a warm kiss then clinked their wineglasses together. Cheering, the crowd raised theirs to toast the king, then drank to him.

Grinning and thanking everyone for the good wishes and greetings, Yuuri invited everyone to enjoy the banquet. He wrapped his arm around his husband’s waist and both of them turned to Yuuri’s family where they were quickly surrounded by his parents, Shori and Asami.

As they had not seen each other for quite a while, Yuuri and Asami shared a longer greeting. They discussed the changes in their lives then just stood together, sipping their drinks comfortably.

Asami caught a glimpse of Kyota and a tall woman.

“So Kyota has already found another one?” he wondered. “He’s fast.”

“Hmm?” Yuuri hummed while sipping from his wineglass. “Well, he’s been with Leahir on and off for about ten years now. They argue, spend a few months or years separate and then go back together. If that can be called getting back together. Wolfram says that it won’t ever work because they are too similar.”

Asami stood there as if he had been struck by lightning. His eyes flittered back to where Kyota and Leahir disappeared, but could not find them amidst the crowd again. 

Suddenly Yuuri realized. “Oh.” He burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said after managing to stifle his fit of laughter. “I didn’t even think that…” he laughed again. “For some reason I didn’t think that you might not know. All of us got used to that long ago.”

Asami raised his glass to take a huge gulp of wine then choked it down. He sighed. “Well, that just floored me.”

Yuuri laughed again. “Well, Leahir is not the only one who has interesting hobbies. Think about Yozak.”

Asami groaned. He raised his glass to his lips again then saw that it was empty. Saying that he was going to get more wine, he turned to the tables. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Asami apologized after walking into a person who had just moved backwards from the table. Surprised, he observed the spill of rich long hair before him. It was black. Confused, he stared at the back of the tall figure in a long tunic. Was it a woman? But the stature was quite… And black hair…in Shin Makoku?

“Asami?”

Asami’s mouth opened in astonishment when the tall figure turned around to look him.

“Amae?” he squeaked. An absent thought that it was not even funny crossed his mind.

“Hey,” Amae clapped him on his shoulder. He took in the man. Asami had changed, became older. Congratulating himself on recognizing him at all, Amae toasted Asami with a glass of wine that he had in his right hand. “We haven’t seen each other for some time. How are you doing? Depressed as usual?”

“Amae?”

“Mm?”

“What are you doing here?”

Amae’s sapphire eyes blinked at him a few times. “Well, Wolfram was the one to invite me. I thought I could just come and drink some.”

“Not that!” Asami snapped. “You disappeared about twenty years ago! And now you just…show up again!”

“Ah,” Amae realized. He sipped his wine distractedly. “About that. It’s a long story. Nobody told you?”

“No!”

Amae patted him on the shoulder again. “As said, it’s a long story, but I’ll enlighten you. Besides, it doesn’t seem that any orgies are going to take place soon, so we have some time to spare.”

“What orgies?" Asami snapped at him.

“Not sure,” Amae shrugged. He sipped his wine again. “But I would not want to miss one if one got started.”

“Figures,” Asami muttered, casting a glance over the table looking for a bottle of wine to fill his glass. “You look superb, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Amae grinned happily. “I do try.”

“I can’t believe nobody told me,” Asami sighed about fifteen minutes later after Amae finished retelling the events that took place two years ago. “So you are working under Gisela now?”

“Well, not really. Not anymore, although I suppose she feels responsible for me in some sense. I’m using her quarters. As soon as I have enough money, I’ll move out.”

“Where to?”

Amae shrugged. “I haven’t thought much about that yet. I just want to get farther away from the city. Maybe to another kingdom, territory or something. First I have to save up; not happening in the next decade, though. Mostly my pay happens to be carrots, radishes, chickens, pancakes and anything else people can scrape up to pay for medicine or treatments.”

“Hmm…” Asami wondered. He raised his glass to take a sip. Above the top of the glass he saw Kyota and Leahir talking to some people farther on across the room. “Kyota was pissed when you left.”

Amae followed Asami’s gaze to the couple. “Yeah, he showed me exactly HOW much,” he muttered, sipping his wine. “I am glad he spared my nose, though,” he mumbled. “Who is that next to him?”

“Leahir. Yuuri said they have been together on and off for about ten years.” From the corner of his eye he watched Amae observing the couple.

“Hmm… He has got a nice style. But the make-up is too bright; it’s not a carnival,” Amae said, before turning away to the table and reaching out for a sandwich.

Asami shook his head silently. It seemed that birds of a feather could tell each other apart easily. Was Kyota attracted to this kind?

“I couldn’t tell it was a man,” Asami said, sipping his wine.

Amae said nothing to that. He observed the sandwich in his hand then took a tentative bite. “When you spend two hours messing around with your hair just to make it look presentable, you’ll be able to as well,” he grunted out a little later. “So how is it going for you?”

“Ah, I’m married. Actually have been married…hmm…if it’s in Shin Makoku terms, then for some ten years. I have a daughter and my wife is pregnant again,” he gave Amae a rather nervous look.

“What, aren’t you happy?”

“Oh, I am, but you know how it is,” Asami sighed. “Children are ninety-nine percent trouble and one percent happiness. Or something like this anyway.”

“Depressed as usual, I see,” Amae concluded. He washed his sandwich down his throat with wine. At least you have someone to worry about.”

Asami laughed softly. “It doesn’t sound that nice when you say it like that. What about you? Anyone to worry about?”

Amae sighed. “Only my cat.” He shrugged. “There have been a few, but… As you see, I am in a seductive mode now,” he toasted Asami.

“I think with you one can never tell. As far as I remember you’re always in a seductive mode,” Asami muttered, clinking his glass with Amae’s.

Amae smiled. “It’s just a silly habit of mine.”

XXXXX

“Who is he?” 

Kyota turned to look in the direction Leahir pointed with his chin. Leahir was looking at Amae. The former concubine was swiftly walking towards the door, oblivious to them. Amae looked splendid this evening, the uncommon jewelry and dark blue tunic was also attracting quite a lot of attention.

Kyota’s eyes narrowed at the sight. “Just a random whore. He used to belong to Faraya.”

“The king that was killed by von Bielefeld? Hmm… True, his looks are worthy of a king,” Leahir drawled, and Kyota noticed real curiosity reflected on his face. “What’s his name?”

“He’s not worth your interest,” Kyota snickered. But he could see that it was too late already – Leahir’s eyes followed Amae until the former concubine disappeared behind the door. Leahir’s face held that particular “must have” look which he knew so well. “He’s a half-blood and soft in the head.”

Leahir gave him a curious look. “Something is telling me that you have already tried to get under that tunic of his... And without much luck,” he added, chuckling.

Irritated, Kyota gritted his teeth. “He is a slut alright and to get there was the easiest thing ever. But I’m saying that he is a complete waste of time.”

Leahir offered Kyota a soft smile. “Then it will be really easy, right? All that’s left to me will be just to decide if he really is such a waste of time, won’t it?”

Kyota gave an annoyed shrug. “Whatever.”

Amused, Leahir watched Kyota walking away. He had never seen his friend react like this before. He didn’t even manage to get the concubine’s name out of Kyota’s mouth. Despite saying all that about the black-haired man, subconsciously or not, Kyota had acted with jealousy in not wanting to let him close to the other male. It was obvious that the he cared for the black-haired man more than he let on.

With a soft smile playing on his lips, Leahir emptied his wineglass. It seemed that even Kyota the Heartbreaker had someone reject him. Naturally, it only increased his interest. It was going to be fun to play the game.

TBC


	25. Part 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 45. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 12.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

Part 25

After asking some of the guards who were around, Leahir found the black-haired male outside in the garden. The man was sitting on one of the few benches and sipping slowly from his glass.

“What a coincidence,” Leahir said walking over to the bench. “I also thought about escaping all that noise and listening to the music outside…” 

The clear blue eyes regarded him rather indifferently. The younger male raised his glass to take another sip.

“Hardly,” he said lowering his glass. “Keeping in mind I saw you talking to Kyota, then you following me… I hardly would call that a coincidence, sweetheart,” the black-haired man gave him an unpleasant smile. “So what is it that you wanted? A nice dress by the way,” he leered at Leahir.

“Something’s telling me that it’s not exactly a compliment,” Leahir muttered. He walked around the bench and leaned on the backrest behind the other male. Taking in a rich spill of black hair, Leahir smiled to himself. Where was that softness in the head Kyota had been talking about? 

“I was trying to find out your name but Kyota was being an asshole.”

“It’s Amae Sederu. Anything else?”

“He also said that you aren’t worth wasting my time. Is that true?” 

Amae turned around to give him a livelier look which was probably a good sign. Then, silently, the black-haired man sipped from his glass again.

“It was true enough for him,” Amae shrugged finally. “As for you… I think it is more about me deciding you are worth me wasting my time, isn’t it?”

Leahir found himself grinning. “True.” He circled the bench and sat down next to Amae. The younger male shot him a glance but didn’t say a word. “I was wondering about your status here. Faraya was killed, but it seems you have made the right friends... The King doesn’t like you, but here you are, at his birthday party.”

Amae lifted the glass to his lips, took a big ungraceful gulp and lowered the empty glass to the ground. “It’s no fucking business of yours, babe.” He gave a charming smile, Leahir catching a dangerous glint in the sapphire eyes. Leahir thought he knew another reason why Amae had caught Kyota’s attention – the man was fiery, which obviously had induced his interest.

“But I’d like to know how to introduce you to other people after we start going out…”

Amae rolled his eyes at the shameless proposal. “It’s not going to happen, so don’t worry your head over it.”

“More wine?” Leahir suggested, pointing at the grass where Amae’s empty wineglass stood. 

Amae’s look slid to the side of the bench to stare at it. “Trying to get me drunk?”

“It’s just that you look like you could use some.”

Amae snorted silently. Lately he always felt like he could use some, and preferably something much stronger than wine. “Fuck it,” he cursed, grabbing his glass and getting up from the bench. Ignoring the man trailing behind his back, he went back into the castle and back into the celebration hall where he turned right to the beverages. 

But he did not reach them as Kyota suddenly barred the way. Amae nearly collided with him. Before recoiling from Kyota, his nose was assaulted by the strong smell of liquor.

“Amae Sederu has promised us a show today!” Kyota beamed at the former concubine. “Make room, everyone! Move aside! Aside!” he waved his hands at the middle of the hall which emptied in a few seconds.

Amae’s wide eyes showed that he had no idea what Kyota was talking about. Then, an unnatural smile stretched the former concubine’s face while his suddenly stormy eyes were glaring daggers at Kyota. 

The hall around him now devoid of people, Amae stood like a statue for a few seconds. He still had a smile plastered on his face. Slowly, he made a move towards the center of the hall. He stood there for a few deathly quiet seconds, then looked around. He walked over to an elderly lady and reached out his hand for a colorful fan that she was holding.

“May I, milady?” Amae bowed.

“Of course,” the woman nodded, smiling.

Amae took the fan. With a quick flick of his wrist folding it, he came back into the middle of the hall. His arms at his sides, his head lowered, he took a stance. Unmoving, he stood like that for several seconds. 

Suddenly, the fan snapped open. Slowly, Amae raised his arm so that the fan now was over his head. He turned his head sideways, his left arm rising parallel to the hall’s floor. The outspread fan traced the line of his left arm, both arms now nearly in one line. His head still turned to the side, Amae held out his arms again. He made a step forward, his arms rising above his head. 

The fan snapped shut. With a slow walk Amae rounded a little circle. The fan slid open again, Amae’s right leg gliding forwards, his back arching. Slowly, the fan trailed over his chest and above his head while Amae reclined even further. Through the slit in his tunic that now hung loosely, one could see his right leg. Muscles tensed under the smooth and healthy skin while he balanced, the arm that was holding the fan coming about twenty centimeters above the floor. 

Amae returned to the starting position. With a quick twirl of his wrist the fan made a circle above his head. His movements now fast and aggressive, he swept through the hall. 

It was silent, people standing and watching the performance absolutely still. Then the whirlwind stopped with a halt, the fan snapping shut, accentuating the abrupt and effective end. He was panting lightly. It was silent for a few seconds then a wave of applause rose. 

Wolfram stopped clapping and looked over at Kyota who had been watching the dance as if mesmerized but now, as it had ended, was scowling. Did he really think a concubine wouldn’t know how to dance?

“It reminds me of some Indian dancing with tango elements,” Yuuri said, watching Amae walk over to the lady he had borrowed the fan from. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Wolfram said. 

Once Amae returned the fan, Leahir sided up to him. He followed Amae towards the beverages.

“Let me,” Leahir caught Amae’s hand and took the bottle Amae had expressed interest in. Sensing that all Amae wanted tonight was to get drunk, he poured him a glassful, then filled his own glass. Silently, Amae took the glass from him then sat down at the table in the place Leahir pointed. Leahir took the chair next to him. 

He clinked his glass against Amae’s. “An amazing performance.”

“Thanks,” Amae muttered.

“Well, whatever is eating you, I hope it will pass.”

“Yes, me too,” Amae muttered, and Leahir felt that he was getting somewhere. While sipping from his glass he cast his eyes over the former concubine again. Damn, Kyota was a fool. Whatever grudge he had against Amae, it was not worth refusing such a man. Smiling softly, Leahir watched the black-haired man drinking the liquor as if it were the last in his life.

Half an hour later, Leahir realized that he had made a mistake. It went the opposite of what he had expected. Instead of relaxing, with each glass Amae drank, he became more and more intractable. Leahir could almost see the man radiating a black aura. To his every try at flirting Amae responded with an icy glare and acid tongue. If that wasn’t enough, Kyota had been watching them for the last ten minutes without even blinking. Just sat at the opposite end of the table, stared at them and slowly took leisurely sips from his glass. His eyes were talking murder.

“Will you knock it off?” Amae hissed at Leahir when the man tried to take his glass of wine away. “First inviting me to drink, then not giving me any!”

“For all the god’s sakes, you’ve had more than enough!” Leahir said, reaching out for the glass again.

“Will you fucking stop groping it?!” Amae yelled at Leahir, slapping his hands away from the glass.

Leahir blanched as half of the hall turned to them. Sure, now everyone was sure that he was trying to grope Amae. The concubine was a nasty one. He glared at the man who was filling his glass again and was drunk out of his head. Amae offered him a challenging glare back then stood up. The next second he grabbed the table to keep his balance. He looked ridiculously surprised that his body protested against being upright.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?!”

Leahir turned his head to the side to bump his nose into Kyota’s. The dangerous fire burning in Kyota’s eyes made him wish he had never approached Amae in first place. Kyota was ablaze with jealousy. Leahir wondered briefly if Kyota even realized that.

“He,” Amae pointed his hand at Leahir. He almost fell over as it lessened his support. He frowned. “He,” Amae repeated, “is being irritating. I…” He flopped back into his chair ungracefully, almost toppling over with it. “I just want to get drunk.”

“I think you have already reached your goal.”

The three of them turned their heads to the king. “Kyota, see Amae to his room.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kyota answered quickly without missing a beat. He grabbed the glass from Amae’s hand and put it down onto the table, then tugged the younger male up.

“But I don’t want to!”

“Amae.”

The former concubine fell silent at the king’s tone. His face one big frown, he let Kyota lead him out of the hall.

“I can walk on my own!” Amae jerked his arm away from Kyota as soon as the door closed behind them. Kyota smirked at Amae when he found it difficult to walk on his own and stumbled, managing to catch himself on the nearby wall at the last second. 

Amae glared at the smirking man. Kyota just stood there without moving. What an asshole. Snorting, Amae pushed himself off the wall, so that only his hands were on it. Walking along the wall and supporting himself, he managed to cross the corridor and reach the stairs.

“Now what?” Kyota giggled at him after casting a look at the stairs. “Going to crawl on all fours?”

Amae looked around the hall. He thought about calling one of the guards who was standing farther away at the door leading to another corridor, then decided not to. Resolute, he started climbing.

It took Amae about ten minutes to stagger to the top of the stairs. “Ha!” he said triumphantly, putting his foot on the last step and suddenly his hand, instead of the railing, grasped empty air. His eyes wide, Amae waved his arms around to grab at anything but found nothing. A thought of a long roll downwards, blood and broken bones crossed his drunken mind. 

Amae huffed loudly as his back hit something solid behind him.

“Got you,” Kyota muttered, holding the younger man firmly with his right hand while his left was squeezing the railing.

Amae’s head fell forward, his chin almost hitting his chest, and he exhaled, relieved. He started climbing again as Kyota pushed him forward.

“I see you still are useless.”

Amae put his foot on the last step and turned around to face Kyota. “I am…” He squeezed the railing firmer, “considering pushing you down the stairs,” he admitted.

“Gods, you are so stupid when drunk.”

Amae’s misty eyes regarded Kyota with drunken curiosity. “So, any other time, I am not?”

“No, any other time you are twice as stupid.”

Kyota caught Amae’s wrist when the younger man’s hand shot out to shove at him. Snarling furiously at the intended attempt, Kyota trussed Amae’s hand behind his back.

“I hate you!” Amae yelled at him when Kyota pushed him forward to his room.

“The feeling is mutual, babe,” Kyota growled, thrusting the door to Amae’s room open. He shoved the younger male into the room forcefully. 

Amae turned around while rubbing his hurting wrist. 

“Asshole!”

“Bitch!”

“Fucker!”

“Whore!”

Amae’s eyes blazed dangerously. Kyota braced himself when the younger male threw himself at him.

Kyota wasn’t sure how, but after a few seconds of grappling, he had Amae’s back slammed into the door, his hands on Amae’s ass and his tongue down the other man’s throat. And it didn’t seem that Amae minded it much. 

There was something wrong with the two of them like that, Kyota was able to feel that instinctively, but with Amae moaning and Amae’s sudden arousal rubbing against his stomach it was difficult to think, and from the door they moved towards the bed. It didn’t work very well as Amae was hardly able to stand, and Kyota’s hands and mind were busy with the thought of getting Amae’s underwear down at any cost. They stumbled and rolled over the carpet. 

With Amae eagerly helping him, Kyota soon tossed the underwear aside where it landed onto a vase with freshly cut flowers. Once done with that, Amae reached his hands out to continue fumbling with Kyota’s belt. They somehow got to the bed and fell onto it. Amae’s back bounced off the mattress a few times then his tunic flew up.

Kyota had been sure he had at least two condoms somewhere in his pockets. He always had them. And while putting the found condom on, Kyota congratulated his consistency to make sure to replenish his supplies at the Great Sage’s. Amae’s legs fell apart for him invitingly and he took the invitation with a great pleasure.

Amae came a few minutes later, and Kyota, still trying to reach his orgasm and staring down at the sweaty and panting man underneath him, realized that he was a fool. He hadn’t wanted anyone else like he wanted Amae right now. The problem was that he hated that. He hadn’t wanted that.

Then Kyota was there and gone. When his body stopped being shaken by the last orgasm tremors, his hand fisted into Amae’s hair near his scalp and he pressed his forehead to the younger male’s shoulder while catching his breath. 

Rolling off the already drowsing man, Kyota took the condom off, made a knot and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and fell somewhere onto the carpet. Not even thinking about getting up and putting it properly into the bin, Kyota pushed the younger male aside to get the cover from underneath them. Let Amae see it and be as baffled as he was now. On the other hand, Amae probably had no idea what a condom was.

Pulling the cover over them, Kyota yawned, dragged Amae closer to him and decided to deal with everything tomorrow. 

XXXXX

Wincing at the excruciating pain in his head, Amae stared at the wall in front of him. Why the heck did his head hurt so much? He covered his eyes with his hand and raised them to look at the window. It was a bright day already. Yesterday’s fest swam up vaguely in his memory, with that a bottle of some awfully bitter liquor which lingered as a rotten taste in his mouth. His memory stopped at Leahir trying to stop him from drinking and instead talk him into finding a calm nook to fuck.

“Asshole,” Amae muttered. Groaning loudly at the pang in his head and somewhat weird feel in his lower regions, he looked down at the carpet expecting to see his slippers. Not finding them, slowly, he climbed off the bed, circled it and went straight for the table where stood a carafe with water. Not bothering with glasses, he lifted the entire carafe and started drinking from it. He thought that it was a bit funny that he was still wearing his tunic. Heaving a content sigh, he lowered the carafe. Putting it back onto the table, he cast his look around the room to find his accursed slippers. His attention was drawn by his underwear adorning a bouquet of flowers. Not really understanding, he stared at the blue garment. A minute later, half-suspecting, he turned his head back to the bed. A tuft of long dark blue hair was visible from under the covers.

Amae’s killing headache returned with full force. Slapping his hands over his face, he rubbed furiously. That didn’t make Kyota disappear. Leaning on the table heavily, Amae stared at the bed for a few seconds then pushed himself off the table and shot to gather his underwear from the bouquet. He sped out of the room as if his hair were on fire. 

XXXXX

When Kyota woke up, Amae wasn’t in the bed anymore. He had expected that, but hoped that he would be the first to wake up. He found his trousers under the bed; probably had gotten kicked there while the two of them tried to get into the bed. His jacket was behind the headboard.

Kyota pulled his trousers up, buttoned his shirt, flung the jacket on and sat down onto the bed to think. Amae had been drunk out of his head yesterday. He, on the other hand, hadn’t been that drunk. His dissatisfaction, anger, jealousy and possessiveness over the other man won and he had just flopped Amae down onto his back and took him. He didn’t feel surprised. He knew perfectly that he had wanted Amae since the first time they met. It hadn’t changed. 

He was bitter and angry with the younger male for his earlier betrayal. He wanted to hate Amae. But instead, all what was left to him was to abhor his own feelings towards the younger man. He couldn’t stand the way Amae was looking at him - with pity and guilt. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about all of that, but he assumed that some course of action was going to be taken by Amae now.

XXXXX

Amae was walking past the yard. There still were many guests present, and he felt reluctant to parade in the main corridors. He snuck out through the kitchen and was planning on heading through the garden and then to the back entrance and to the baths. Walking along the high fence, he watched a few men that were sparring. He was already halfway to the small gate leading to the garden when he noticed Leahir Sandel sparring with one of the soldiers. Amae hurried his step. He wanted no trouble.

“Sederu!”

Amae groaned inwardly, and pretended not to hear.

“Hey, Amae!”

Amae heard quick steps behind him and turned around. Leahir was right in front of him. Amae had to raise his head to look at the man’s face. Amae did not often see men that were taller than himself. With clothes that befitted his sex Leahir looked completely different from yesterday. Even the air about him was absolutely different. There was no longer that mellow feel about him anymore, just pure virility. In addition to that, Leahir was giving him a grim look.

“Hello, Amae, sweetheart. So today you’re already pretending you don’t know me?” Leahir said in a voice that was suggesting Amae was going to regret this.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” Amae said, giving a quick bow. “I don’t really…”

“Even if you say that…” Leahir scowled. “Everyone is sure that yesterday I groped you to my heart’s content.”

Amae ruffled through his hair then offered Leahir a seductive smile. “But wasn’t groping your original intention anyway? Or you are angry that it never led further?”

Leahir found himself grinning at the younger male. “You sure have a lot of nerve. But while it might be true what you’re saying, I’ve never been known for trying to force myself on anyone. I must have appeared quite desperate.”

“Ah, might it be you’re worried about your reputation?”

“You’re slow on the uptake, sweetheart.”

Amae chuckled lightly. “Happens to me all the time.”

Leahir seized Amae with his eyes. It seemed that except for having a hangover and strongly reeking of Kyota, the former concubine was fine. He wondered if Amae being a half-blood realized that. Then he decided that since Amae was trying to sneak into the baths through the backdoor was a proof that he did.

So he was a “no”, but Kyota was a go? Leahir felt his ego stirring.

“C’mon, let’s have a match,” he said. 

Amae’s eyes widened. “Huh?” Only now he understood why Leahir was holding two wooden swords in his hands. He shook his head. “I’m no good at sword-fighting.” 

It was obvious that Leahir Sandel did not care whether he was good or bad at it – the man had already retreated about two meters away. Clumsily, Amae caught the wooden sword that was tossed to him.

“Seriously, I’ve only held one a few times in… Yahrg!” He was just in time to parry Leahir’s sword that was aimed right for his face. “Are you an idiot?!” Amae yelled at him. “I’m telling you that I am no good at this!”

“Will you shut up?!”

Amae closed his mouth. He looked around to see that all the soldiers that had earlier been in the yard were gone now. Leahir must have instructed for them to leave. Or they had done this on their own accord so as not to interfere.

Amae jumped away as Leahir charged again. Running away in the long tunic that he was wearing would be a bad idea – he would not get even a few steps before Leahir struck him on the head from behind. He hardly managed to block another hit.

“You’re going to get into a serious trouble for attacking a passerby,” Amae warned the older male.

The following attack made Amae’s hand numb, the fingers hardly holding on the sword. The entire time he was walking backwards and Leahir was still pushing. While trying to parry his next attack, Amae suddenly stumbled and landed on his side with a heavy thump. Leahir did not even think about stopping and his sword rose again. Amae somehow parried the attack, but the next hit on his wrist made him yelp in pain and let go of his sword. As Leahir’s sword rose again, he shielded his head with his arms and called on his water element.

“Leahir Sandel, put your sword down immediately!”

Leahir lowered his sword. Amae removed his arms off his face and turned to the side to see an enraged Prince Consort.

“Your Highness,” Leahir bowed.

“What’s going on here?” Wolfram demanded. He pointed at a shade of Amae’s water element that was looming a bit farther. As it had rained only several days ago, it had taken some time for it to form. “What’s this?”

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Leahir asked in a surprised voice. “We have just been sparring.” He looked at the former concubine who now was getting up from the ground. “Right, Amae?”

“Yes,” Amae nodded, “this jealous sonovabitch was trying to teach me a few useful moves.”

Leahir flinched lightly. 

Wolfram stared at both of them then gave Amae a good measured glare. Amae was telling him not to interfere. He respected Amae enough to do as asked. But still… “And the element?”

“Oh, we started getting hot and I thought that some water would be just what we need.”

“At least try to look convincing while lying,” Wolfram gritted out through his teeth. “You,” he shot a sharp look at Leahir. “Cause me trouble again, and I’ll deal with you so fast you won’t even have a chance to blink.” 

Leahir bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Wolfram turned to glare at Amae then started walking away.

“Don’t forget your sword,” Leahir said when Amae started walking in the opposite direction, towards the gate to the garden.

Amae gave him a look then leaned down to pick it up from the ground. Carrying it loosely in his hand, he continued towards the gate.

Leahir watched him disappear then chuckled softly. “And you are not so easily intimidated, are you?”

Leahir decided to go to the stables and see how his horse was doing. The beast was happy to see him and was neighing, content with the chucks on his counter. After gentling the horse for about an hour, Leahir brought the animal back into the stables then washed and brushed him carefully.

“Good boy,” Leahir patted the horse before leaving the stables. 

Leahir left the stalls but when he was almost at the door, it opened and Amae entered. The former concubine gave Leahir a look. He was still carrying the wooden sword.

“Catch!” Amae said, throwing it to the other man.

Instinctively, Leahir raised his arms. It seemed that it had been all that Amae had wanted from him and his fist flew towards Leahir’s face.

“Tssk,” Leahir shook his head, squeezing Amae’s fist in his left hand. “You forget that I’m a full-blooded Mazoku and quite in a good form, so it’s obvious that I’m faster than you. But I’ll give you that - a pretty bold move for a concubine. Or maybe just stupid…” he said squeezing Amae’s fist and turning his wrist so that Amae’s face was soon contorted with pain.

Leahir pushed him away, letting go. Glaring at him, Amae rubbed his wrist. He yelped as Leahir suddenly slapped him across the face. The slap was so intense that it just swept Amae off his feet.

“What? Why so surprised?” Leahir asked, staring down at Amae who was holding his left side of the face and watching him from the ground with shocked eyes. “Think of that as the settlement for what you intended to do; I am quite sensitive concerning threats to my face.”

“You can play a woman as long as you like,” Amae hissed, his leg suddenly shooting out from the ground, the foot aiming for Leahir’s crotch. “But I have no problems with getting punched in the face a few times,” he spat. “I am a man, Leahir. A man. It will take more than a few slaps to get me down.”

There was a short howl as if that of a wounded animal and Leahir grabbed at his crotch with his hands, his legs giving in at once, he sagged onto his knees, then fell on his side. Rolling on the ground, he continued to wail.

Amae watched him for a few seconds then stood up, dusted his tunic off and walked off back to the door.

Through the tears streaming from his eyes, Leahir watched the retreating concubine. “Really,” he coughed, wheezing, “even if you say that…only a woman would have… Oh gods, this hurts.”

XXXXX

Ruffled, Amae was tearing around the Castle. At first Kyota, then Leahir. What the hell did they want from him? The two of them were together, so it was very likely they were using him to stoke each others’ passions. But why the heck did Kyota have to go and drag him into bed and then Leahir… Amae nearly growled. Was the bastard jealous or just liked playing around? Or was he insulted he slept with Kyota instead of him? Or was that swordplay just some sadomasochistic pick up?

“Fucking damnit it all!” Amae hissed after having taken a look at himself in the mirror that hung in his room. There could be seen a reddish bruise on his cheek. The entire incident and the mind games reminded him of those times in Faraya’s harem. “Two idiotic bastards! Thinking I’ll be their plaything! Screw them!” He downed his glass of wine and lowered it noisily back to the table. “Arachi, let’s go!”

The royal guard stood in the doorway regarding the young man inside the room. He had been on duty elsewhere when the Prince Consort had passed by, then suddenly stopped, turned and ordered him to “Go find Amae and see that he stays out of trouble. At least for a while.” And then moved on. Leaning against the door frame, the guard gave the former concubine’s back a look that could only be described as “Why me?”. Instead, he asked, “Where to?”

“Don’t particularly care, just away from this madhouse!”

“Oh, these coordinates sound very familiar,” Arachi scowled.

Amae’s head snapped around to offer him a glare. “Just get me a freakin’ horse!”

“Fine, fine,” the royal guard conceded. “Be in the yard in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later the two of them set off for the nearest lake.

“You sure you can take it?” Arachi asked.

From under a wide hat to protect his still somewhat hurting head from the bright sun, Amae gave him a look saying he could take about anything except for staying in the Castle.

Half an hour later, the two of them dismounted. While Arachi was hobbling their horses, Amae leaned his back against a tree that was offering satisfactory shade and took off his hat.

“There,” he exhaled contently, “peace and quiet.”

After a while he decided to go for a swim. He warned Arachi that he was not that good of a swimmer and the guard nodded, moving into Amae’s place under the tree from where he could plainly see the lake.

Amae had just started washing his hair as Arachi heard a lone rider approach from behind. He turned around and stood up. The man, who had just emerged from the wood, now was tying his horse to a nearby tree.

Alert, Arachi moved forward intending to cross the path of the man. Then he suddenly recognized Kyota Docharo. Arachi moved back under the tree, letting the higher-ranking male pass. Kyota must have noticed him, but there was nothing to indicate that.

For a few minutes Kyota stood watching Amae’s back while the younger male was rinsing his hair. Then Amae stood still, staring at something at the opposite side of the lake, far in the distance. It was nearly evening, the sun starting to disappear behind the forest. 

Kyota suddenly was brought twenty years back, to Ekara, to a river where had been watching Amae just like now. Not sure what came over him, Kyota started taking his boots off, soon tossing his jacket and shirt onto the grass. He unclasped his belt and pulled his trousers off and threw them onto the pile. He waded into the water. 

Amae finally seemed to have heard the splashing water and turned around to see what was going on. Sighing, Amae turned his head away from Kyota. Cupping his hands and scooping some water he splashed his face with it. He wondered if Kyota was intending to drown him. Then he settled on the thought that all Kyota wanted was sex; the blue-haired man must know that there was an elite guard in the shadows watching over both of them.

Amae shivered as Kyota brushed the hair off his nape and back, lowering the long wet mass of it onto his left shoulder. Warm lips touched his cool neck and Amae closed his eyes. There was something absurd in this situation, he knew that. 

From afar Arachi watched Amae turn around to face Kyota. The two stared at each other then Kyota leaned forward, and Amae let the older male kiss him. The kiss soon overgrew into passionate caresses. A few moments later Kyota and Amae turned to the shore. Kyota had his arm wrapped around the younger man’s waist, as if afraid he might flee at any time. Amae did not flee, though. They walked over to the pile of Kyota’s clothes on the shore. Neither of the two looked at where they knew the guard was. Arachi noticed that Kyota’s step was shaky, he could sense the turmoil in the blue-haired man. Amae, though, seemed calm, too clam and indifferent. It wasn’t making much sense. What was Amae doing?

The pair approached the pile, and Kyota leaned down to spread his jacket onto the grass. Once done, he pulled down his underwear. Suddenly Amae seemed to be surprised by the entire thing as if he had just woken up. 

From up close, Amae stared at Kyota’s blurry face while the man was kissing him. Not getting any response, Kyota raised his head to look at Amae. After seeing the look on Amae’s face he wanted to ask what was wrong, but he didn’t because the list Amae would have produced would have killed the mood completely.

“I’m going back,” Amae suddenly said, pushing Kyota away.

Kyota held the younger man’s arm. “You are not going anywhere,” he muttered darkly.

Amae jerked his arm to get free. “Let go!” Kyota let go of him, and he moved away. “Let’s agree that nothing happened,” he said, slipping past Kyota.

Kyota turned to Amae’s retreating back. “I wasn’t that drunk last night, Amae,” he muttered. Amae turned around, and Kyota gave him a serious look. “I really want you.”

Amae raised his hand to rub his hurting forehead. “And what about it?” he sighed. “This isn’t anything new, Kyota.”

Kyota glared at him. “Why? Tell me why you always act like an asshole?!” He fell silent as Amae only continued to stare at him as if asking whether he had finally decided what he wanted to do. Kyota could not hold his gaze. “Listen, it’s complicated.”

“Sure.” Amae turned to go.

“Running away again?!” Kyota shouted at him desperately.

“Who is running?! You are the one who’s running! Why did you come here at all?! What the hell do you want from me?! Do you even know yourself what you want from me?!”

Kyota had a pretty clear idea why he had followed Amae and what he wanted from him and that knowledge only angered him even more. “Don’t tell me I’m the one running! Every time I reach out, you disappear, you damn bastard!” He grabbed Amae by his shoulders and tried to shove him onto the grass. 

“What are you doing?! Get your hands off me!”

Seeing the two naked men tussling, and knowing that there was no way Amae could win, Arachi moved closer to them in case the shoving about turned into exchanging blows or rape. Another thing that struck him as odd was that neither of the two were using their elements in this, which was obviously showing that neither wanted to seriously hurt the other. At first the two irritated men were loudly shouting at each other, then their shouts turned into angry growls and hisses that he could not hear. 

The guard moved forward as Kyota finally managed to wrestle the younger man to the ground. Kyota had not hit Amae, but this was getting out of hand. 

But when there were only a couple of meters left to where the two lay, Arachi stopped. Now he wasn’t even sure what was happening. Was Amae still fighting Kyota? True, the younger male was still trying to push Kyota off him, but for some reason his mouth was all over Kyota’s. For some reason whatever Amae was doing was closer to kissing Kyota than fighting him. Arachi scratched his head, confused. Did he need to interfere?

“Hmhhn… Ahh…”

Those were Amae’s moans, and Arachi turned back to sit under his tree. It seemed that to all Amae’s quirks also belonged this. Whatever it was. Arachi knew that Kyota still loved and wanted the younger male, but Amae… What was Amae doing letting Kyota do this to him? Was this some consolation for Kyota? Did he feel guilty for leaving Kyota back then? Did he actually like Kyota? Did he even care about Kyota? Was Amae just spineless? Did he simply like sex with Kyota?

The latter idea seemed to be right as more pleasure filled moans reached his ears. Rhythmical grunting was heard accompanied by alternately soft or loud slaps of flesh against flesh. It went faster and faster. Soon it was over, someone’s satisfied groan finishing this imbroglio. 

Kyota pulled away and Amae lowered his legs off his shoulders. Panting, he stared at the darkening sky. What the hell had just happened? Just like before, again, there was no time to understand what was going on. It was just like lightning. Just a moment which made him lose all reason. One time was bad, now the second one… One couldn’t even call this an accident anymore. Amae closed his eyes. An accident? He had slept three times with the man. What freakin’ accident was it? Amae could hear Kyota’s heavy breathing near him. What was wrong with them both?

Amae sat up. He was sore. Kyota had only used his saliva, not even letting him adjust. But that had not lessened the pleasure one bit. Amae lowered his head, letting the damp hair cover his face. It always went that way with him. He sighed. Wasn’t this just great? 

Amae heard Kyota fumbling with clothes, then heard a soft click of metal indicating that the blue-haired male had buckled his belt. Amae rolled off Kyota’s jacket, letting the older man take it. He sat on the grass for a couple of seconds, then got up and went to the water. He needed to wash himself.

Cursing softly, Amae waded out of the water. Now he was seriously hurting, the pleasure having faded completely. Arachi was standing on the shore, holding his clothes. As expected, Kyota was already gone. Amae cursed again. So who was running away now?

“Will you be able to walk? I suppose riding is out of the question?” the guard asked, holding out the tunic for the younger male.

Amae glared at him. But Arachi seemed to be as puzzled by this entire thing as Amae himself. Amae sighed. “Yeah, just don’t walk fast.”

XXXXX

Leahir gave a deep bow. “Your Highness,” he addressed Wolfram. He made a gesture to refuse the wine that the prince offered. “I came here on business.”

Wolfram put his glass down. “Really? Interesting. Does it have anything to do with one particular black-haired male that I caught you messing around with this morning?”

“I’d like to buy the concubine.”

Wolfram stared at him. “What?” he asked, not sure whether he had heard it right. Was this a joke?

“Amae Sederu belongs to Your Highness, doesn’t he?” Leahir said, coming closer to the sofa.

Wolfram gave him a hesitant look. “Well, technically yes, but…”

“I have an offer Your Highness won’t be able to refuse,” Leahir said confidently.

TBC


	26. Part 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Age: Yuuri – 45. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde – 12.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda and HARPG0

Part 26

Amae raised his eyes to look at the door. Confused and somewhat annoyed, he stared at Leahir, who had just taken the liberty to stroll into his room without knocking. 

“Who let you in?” Amae asked, concentrating back on the tiny pair of scales in front of him. Five more milligrams of dried yarrow to add.

“The guards,” Leahir said, approaching Amae.

Amae’s desk was strewn with varicolored bottles of different sizes and shapes. Some of them were filled with something only Amae could identify, others were empty. Bundles of wrapped and unwrapped herbs were piled all around the desk.

Amae rolled his eyes while taking the tiny scale disk off and pouring its contents into one of the varicolored bottles. Leahir briefly wondered how Amae was even able to find the right bottle in this mess.

“I have the Prince Consort’s permission.”

“Hmm… Coming to visit me privately…” Amae grinned while capping the bottle. “Do you need treatment for gonorrhea or maybe it’s a thriving wart?”

The tone was light, conversational but with a hint of a warning. Leahir watched the man putting the bottle into a huge bag next to the table. He heard the bottle rattle among the contents. The concubine was really something – performing a dance like that just a two days ago, driving Kyota mad with lust and jealousy and now…just sitting calmly and mixing herbs like an old woman, but at the same time managing to keep him on edge. Amae was one huge paradox. It was no wonder Kyota wanted him so much.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no.”

Amae shrugged indifferently. He took one of the small bundles on the table and started to unwrap it. A strong tart smell pervaded the room as the cloth revealed a bunch of brownish herbs. 

“I bought you, Amae,” Leahir said as it was obvious that Amae’s silence indicated that it was just common sense to state one’s business after entering his territory.

The man’s hands stopped moving for a second, then he continued working. 

“Really?”

“Yes. It seems that the Prince Consort is not that happy with your presence near him. Here,” Leahir untied a bag from his belt and tossed it onto the bed next to Amae’s desk where it jingled. “Fifty thousand and the exclusive right to sell Fanrir’s agricultural produce - that’s your price, Amae.”

Amae looked at the bag of money then his eyes traveled back to the herbs he had on the desk. “What’s with the bag? Are you giving the money to me?”

“That was the part of the deal - the money is yours. Our Prince Consort seems to have a soft spot for you after all. It’s…well, probably your dowry.” 

Laughing, Amae clapped his hands to clean off the tiny bits and pieces of herbs and then, for the first time during this conversation he finally turned around to look at Leahir.

Quite startled, Leahir stared at the laughing man. What was with that reaction?

“Why?” Amae asked softly, his laughter quieting. He suddenly felt tired from these games. Wolfram was an idiot. Amae’s body slumped deeper into the chair.

“Why what? Why he sold you or why I bought you?”

“Why did you buy me?”

Leahir chuckled. “You are a concubine, right? I want you, so I bought you.” 

Amae gave him a thoughtful look. He opened his mouth then closed it, changing his mind. Deciding to just go along, he chuckled. “You could have had me for free.”

“No, I don’t want to have you, I want to own you.” Leahir’s gaze became sterner. “Start packing. We are leaving in three hours.”

Amae watched him silently for a few seconds then nodded. He turned back to the table where he wrapped the sharply smelling herbs back. Then he started gathering the bottles off the table and putting them into a separate bag. The packing finished, he stood up.

The concubine was tall, nearly as tall as Leahir. Amae’s lean and elegant presence was enticing. If the man acquired more muscle, trained his body, he would be a fearful opponent. However, Amae did not seem interested in that.

“I need to change my clothes.”

Blinking, Leahir’s eyes rose back to Amae’s face. “So?”

“So you will leave the room.”

“You forget that you belong to me now.”

Amae smiled at him brightly. “I indeed do, don’t I?”

Unconsciously, Leahir found himself wanting to back away from that stormy blue gaze. “Fine,” he said, frowning. “I don’t see why you are playing coy anyway,” he muttered. “You have been a concubine for a quite long time after all. Faraya’s concubine.”

Amae chuckled at the other man’s retreating back. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, that’s right. And he would have just taken what he wanted right now and right here. You though, sweetheart, you have no balls. I’ll walk all over you…” he tsked, amused. 

Leahir’s head snapped around to glare at Amae. He pivoted on his heel and took two quick strides to bring him up to the younger male. Amae watched him, smiling, still with his arms crossed.

“You piss me off,” Leahir grunted. He lifted Amae’s chin, so that their lips now were at the same level.

“I know,” Amae grinned. “That’s why you want me.”

Their lips touched, and Amae closed his eyes. He felt Leahir’s tongue sneak out to demand entrance. Amae opened his mouth to let him in. Their tongues met, sliding against each other. Leahir’s arm wrapped around Amae’s waist, drawing him close. Then it slid down over the younger male’s hip to squeeze the round buttock underneath the tunic.

A few seconds later, Leahir’s right hand glided through the former concubine’s long hair to settle on his nape to deepen the kiss. Amae felt himself pulled into it. He moaned softly as both of Leahir’s hands settled on his buttocks and pulled him to press their groins together. Leahir pushed him backwards, where Amae knew that the bed was.

Amae broke the kiss to get his bearings back. His legs felt shaky. Leahir raised his head to look at the flushed man. He thought about dishing out a witty comment but the sight turned his brain to useless mush. Amae’s half open mouth, chaotic hair, and dilated pupils…

“Hmnmhh…” Amae moaned with pleasure when Leahir’s mouth engulfed his with a sudden burst of lust. Leahir’s hand moved over his waist and in between his legs. “Mmm… Yes!” Amae gasped as it outlined him and rubbed over his tunic.

Leahir swallowed Amae’s moans. He pushed the younger male towards the bed, where they fell into it, bouncing on the mattress, the money bag rolling out onto the floor. Amae grunted as Leahir’s weight pressed him down. Leahir lifted himself then his hand brushed Amae’s tunic out of his way.

“Oh, I see,” Leahir said. “This is why you like wearing them; they are so easy to deal with.”

Amae grinned up at him. His arms wrapped around Leahir’s nape and shoulders to draw the other man down for another passionate kiss. Leahir’s hands slid under the tunic and over the younger man’s bare stomach and over his sides, caressing the smooth skin. Amae hummed encouragingly, his attention momentarily distracted from Leahir’s back and shoulders. 

“I see we’ll get along,” Leahir purred, leaning in to issue another kiss.

Amae deepened the kiss, sucking on Leahir’s tongue, making the other man shiver in anticipation. Amae’s fingers slid into Leahir’s hair to massage his scalp. His other hand stroked Leahir’s back, then slid over his waist and fondled his front.

Leahir gasped at the friction. He raised himself on his hands to give the younger male more access. Amae’s lips attacked his throat, here and there applying a soft kissed or more aggressive nibbles on his skin. His hand slid off Leahir’s crotch and started fumbling with the belt of his trousers. Leahir came to help him as Amae could not manage to undo it with one hand.

Amae seized the erect flesh that had sprung out from the open trousers. He started stroking it leisurely. 

“Oh yes,” Leahir hummed, his hips following the lead. 

While holding himself up with his left hand, Leahir wanted to return the favor but Amae’s hand intercepted him half-way. He brought the older male’s hand up.

“Oh shit,” Leahir groaned as he watched Amae’s tongue circle his fingers. His eyes screwed shut as Amae sucked on them in time with his strokes Leahir’s shaft. He couldn’t contain himself anymore and attacked Amae’s mouth like a starved animal.

The kisses were wet and messy, their mouths slurping and sucking, tongues meshing. 

“Your trousers…” Amae panted out between the kisses. He tugged at Leahir’s trousers. 

The two of them grappled with the trousers then finally Leahir kicked them to the floor. He started working on Amae’s underwear which soon joined the trousers on the carpet. Meanwhile Amae’s free arm wrapped around Leahir’s waist to hold onto it firmly, and he turned them so they now were on their sides. Leahir approved the development in the position with a content groan.

Amae continued working on Leahir’s pulsing length in his palm. His other hand left the older man’s waist to settle on his buttock and squeeze it. Amae’s mouth attached itself to Leahir’s mouth then slid down to his Adam’s apple, where his teeth scrapped against the sensitive flesh. 

Leahir caressed Amae’s back. His breath was coming out in short quick gasps. He tensed in surprise as one of Amae’s fingers slid through his crease wetly and slipped inside him. Leahir’s eyes rolled up in his head as he came with a few shuddery huffs.

“So good,” Leahir purred after he had come to his senses. He leaned in to kiss Amae. “Hmmn,” he hummed while nipping and nibbling on Amae’s lips and pumping his tongue in and out. He looked down at the obvious bulge under Amae’s tunic. “Now let’s deal with this.”

“I don’t matter. My duty is to see that the master is pleased,” Amae purred. “Dress and don’t worry,” he husked sucking on Leahir’s lower lip. “I’ll deal with it by myself.”

Leahir jerked as Amae bit his lip quite painfully. Leahir soothed his lips with his tongue. “I’d be pleased if you let me…” he reached down to Amae’s crotch.

“I don’t want you touching me,” Amae said strictly, smacking his hand away. “Besides, you haven’t shown me anything that I haven’t seen before,” he said, suddenly leering at Leahir, his attitude changing completely.

Leahir stared at him, confused, his mind still in a pleasurable daze. Then his eyes started to darken.

“You are an annoying pompous bastard trying to take an advantage of the situation,” Amae muttered. “Now get out.”

Leahir stared at him in disbelief. “You belong to me. I could just fuck you however I…”

“Don’t,” Amae warned as Leahir’s hand shot forward to make a grab at him. “I don’t want you touching me. Simply leave the room.” 

Leahir found himself unable to defy Amae’s pronouncement. He also understood that Amae knew perfectly well that he would not stoop as low as to pleasure or take Amae against his will. He wasn’t sure how the former concubine knew, but it was obvious he knew people pretty well.

Leahir cursed. He got up from the bed and started looking for his trousers that he had kicked to the floor earlier. “Aren’t you just being fussy?”

“Call it whatever you wish but don’t even try dragging me down the same path again,” Amae said, also standing up. He scanned the floor for his underwear. “I had enough of you and Faraya and everyone else.”

Leahir pulled his trousers up. He belted them then turned around to grin at Amae. “I have lots of time, love. If you managed to fall in love with a man like Faraya, then it’s obvious that I have many chances.” He chuckled and whirred through the door just a fraction before a pillow hit it.

“Get ready!” Leahir shouted before going away, still laughing.

XXXXX

“Yuuri?”

The king raised his head to look at his husband leaning on the wall in the doorway. Yuuri was able to tell right away that this would take more than a few words of exchange.

“Yes?”

“Want to see something interesting?” Wolfram asked.

Yuuri was intrigued by his husband’s cunning smile. “Hmm? Sure?” he drawled carefully.

“I think the view from my study will be first class.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just a small play.”

“Eh? What play? Do we have a visiting theater group? Nobody told me.”

Wolfram laughed softly. “I suppose one could call it a leaving theater group. I think it should start in two minutes. I’ll be heading back, then,” he turned to go. “Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Huh?”

Bewildered, Yuuri stood up and followed Wolfram. He had not understood a word of what Wolfram had said, but decided that, knowing his husband, it would be a very good idea just to follow Wolfram whenever Wolfram wanted Yuuri to follow him.

Once in Wolfram’s study, Yuuri gave his husband’s back a questioning gaze.

“Come here,” Wolfram motioned for Yuuri to join him at the window. “We are just in time. Look,” he motioned at a lone rider who could be seen from the window, “that is Kyota tearing after that carriage,” he pointed further. 

“And what’s in the carriage?” Yuuri wondered.

“Amae.”

“Oooh,” Yuuri nodded his head, starting to get the picture. With interest, he leaned on the windowsill then wrapped his other arm around the blond’s waist. “First-rate show. Actually, how did you manage to arrange this? I suppose I am not too forward in presuming that this is your doing, am I?”

Wolfram leaned against Yuuri. “Oh, it was nothing much. I just sold Amae to Leahir.” He grinned at his husband’s wide eyes. “And then told Kyota about it.”

XXXXX

“Stop the carriage!”

From Amae’s frowning face, Leahir’s eyes went to the window. They just recently passed the castle gate and now were riding down the slope leading towards the city. He stuck his head out to see what the commotion was about. One of his guards rode up to him.

“Sir, Kyota Docharo wants to talk to you.”

Leahir rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Great.” With a light flick of his wrist he dismissed the guard. Grinning, he looked at Amae. “Well, it’s going to get interesting now.” 

The former concubine scowled at him.

Leahir opened the door and climbed out of the carriage. Kyota was only a few meters away. He jumped off his horse. Leahir’s guards were horseback but it was obvious they were not sure how they were supposed to react to this situation. There was a lot of tension in the air, which had never been present before. All of them knew the relationship Leahir and Kyota had, but there was something different with the atmosphere right now. 

Seeing the confusion, Leahir motioned for his guards to stay back. “Kyota,” he nodded formally to acknowledge the other man. 

Kyota, annoyed by this wintery act, frowned. Instead of answering, his jaw set firmer. “Why the hell are you doing this?” he demanded.

Leahir gave the blue-haired man a nonchalant look. “Because I want him, of course. And I’m more capable than you of getting what I want, it seems.”

Kyota startled in surprise. “You damn bastard!” he hissed out in disbelief.

Amused, Leahir chuckled at his incredulity and anger. “C’mon,” he threw his hands dramatically, “no hard feelings. He has agreed to go with me of his free will, after all.”

Kyota spat in distaste. “You call buying someone ‘free will’?!” Over Leahir’s shoulder, he glanced at the window of the carriage where he knew Amae was. “Fine!” he looked back at Leahir. “You and me, then. The one who wins can have him.” His blue eyes locked on the carriage as the door opened and Amae appeared. The concubine climbed down and stood staring at the two of them with a neutral face.

Leahir shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Why should I fight you? He’s already mine.”

“I can’t believe this!” Kyota growled. “I can’t fucking believe I once called you a friend!”

Leahir rolled his eyes. “Well, you should agree, Kyota, that what we had was more...based on pleasure than friendship. But even so, I would not want to damage our relationship.” He motioned at Amae. “Look at him. He’s only a concubine, Kyota. We aren’t going to fall out because of him, are we?”

Kyota gritted his teeth. He understood perfectly well that Leahir was laughing at him. Leahir knew that having chased after Amae like a damn idiot, it meant he was serious about this. Nonetheless, it had been him who had told Leahir he hated Amae and now Leahir was having fun at his expense.

“Yes, we are, Leahir,” Kyota raised his hand. “You knew that before doing this.” A flash of fire appeared in it.

“Ooo, what drama,” Leahir drawled, chuckling. Then his face got more serious. “Alright,” he nodded, “if you win, you can have him,” with the back of his hand he motioned at Amae behind them. “However, I am sure that you’ll agree that as I’m the one attacked, I have the right to choose the weapons we’ll be dueling with,” he said matter-of-factly then offered Kyota a sharp smile. “I like swords, Kyota. You know that.”

Amae crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the carriage. It did not seem that anyone would be interested in what he had to say about all of this. He noticed that after mentioning swords, Kyota’s face fell a little. He remembered Wolfram or someone else saying that Kyota was not that good with a sword.

Kyota hesitated for a few moments. He knew from experience that Leahir was a formidable opponent. He realized that he didn’t have much chance of winning against the man. Nonetheless, now there was no way of turning back – he had suggested a duel and Leahir accepted. He could not go back on his word. And maybe…maybe luck would be on his side. 

Kyota lowered his hand and dispersed his fire element. His fingers encircled the hilt of his sword at his side. “Fine,” he conceded.

Leahir motioned to one of his servants to get his sword from the carriage. Both Kyota and Leahir moved away from the road and the carriage to the meadow beside the road.

Kyota badly wanted to look at Amae to see his reaction or thoughts on what was happening, yet, afraid of what he might see, somehow managed to stop himself. Then, while waiting for one of the guards to bring Leahir his sword, he forced himself to stop thinking about anything else except the upcoming duel.

“Kyota,” Leahir said, weighing the sword his guard has brought him, “you have never won against me in a duel, what makes you think it might be any different today?”

Kyota’s eyes slid over Leahir’s blade. The man was serious. Instead of that huge badassed blade that he usually carried around, Leahir was holding a different one, one that was much more efficient in a duel. As two-handed swords were Leahir’s specialty, this one also was two-handed only much more compact. Kyota knew that Leahir was hard to fight because he could just as easily hold it with one hand. During the fight, Leahir’s next step was very hard to predict. 

Leahir would usually carry that insanely huge sword of his around, but it wasn’t his favorite. Yes, it helped Leahir to develop the musculature he needed to be this good at wielding smaller two-handed swords as he did, it was also a perfect weapon during a raid against cavalry, that enormous blade just sweeping horses and the raiders together at once, but it was more for show and practice than anything else.

Kyota left the question-taunt unanswered. There was nothing much he could say anyway. His fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword more firmly and he charged at Leahir. The brown-haired man parried his attack easily. Their blades screeching, they parted. Leahir took the offensive, and Kyota grunted at the numbing force with which Leahir’s sword clashed against his. Leahir pushed forward, and, not planning on giving the blue-haired male a breather, charged at his right side. Kyota hardly managed to defend himself, and Leahir’s sword was rising again. 

All the time while fighting Kyota, Leahir was holding his blade with both hands, knowing well that in this fight he would not need mobility and speed; he was more concentrated on strength. He was pushing Kyota, making him walk backwards. It was just a question of time.

Kyota cursed when his foot caught on a molehill and he nearly lost his balance. Leahir gladly used this opportunity and nearly took his head off. Only at the last second did Kyota manage to duck.

Kyota was sure he felt hesitation and deliberate slowness when that blade swept above his head. Leahir had seen the opportunity and used it, but it was more to demonstrate what he could do. Now it was obvious that Leahir did not intend to end this with someone’s death. Kyota was glad about it, because now he was sure that it would have been his death. His ex-lover was too much of a formidable opponent for him to handle.

Leahir grinned after noticing that Kyota understood he was just toying with him. “How about simply giving up?” he asked. “I would even agree to call it a draw. In no way do I want to be responsible for crippling my ex-lover or causing his death; my reputation would really suffer.”

Kyota said nothing. His sword aimed at Leahir’s chest, but was blocked and diverted aside. Kyota had no time to recover his balance as Leahir lashed out, his blade trying for his right shoulder. Kyota yelped in pain as the sword connected with his arm, the tip of the blade barely missing his neck.

Because of the adrenaline Kyota did not feel much of anything, but the cut ran through the muscles and he had trouble holding his sword. It was a severe hindrance and he changed his hands. Leahir gave him a skeptical look. He knew Kyota was more or less the same fighting with his right or left hand, but right now there was no point in this.

“Take this seriously!” Kyota growled.

With his eyes, Leahir indicated Kyota’s arm. “I am taking this seriously.”

Kyota advanced and Leahir blocked his thrust for his side. It always was a little tricky for both fighters when one of them was left-handed. Leahir found it to be true about beating off Kyota’s attacks. The blue-haired Mazoku though, seemed to be more used to fighting this way.

Kyota’s blade swished through the air where just a moment ago Leahir’s side was. Leahir had jumped away. In a second he clashed his sword against Kyota’s while he still had it pointed aside. Of course, he was not able to beat it out Kyota’s hand this easily, but he had not intended that. With a quick push, he diverted the blue-haired male’s sword towards the ground, then lashed out with his foot. The kick caught Kyota in the middle of his stomach, the sheer force of it lifting him off his feet and throwing him away about a meter.

Leahir’s blade met only grass and the ground as Kyota rolled over. Despite tears streaming from his eyes, and lack of air in his lungs, Kyota managed to get to all fours in a second and his foot shot out. Leahir’s feet were swept from under him and he hit the grass with a thud. The thud was followed by a loud painful grunt and a curse as his left shoulder was dislocated while he had been trying to soften his fall with his left arm.

Spitting out a few blades of grass, Leahir turned to his right side. He could see Kyota gasping for air just out of his sword reach. But if he chucked it… Leahir yelped in pain as someone’s heavy boot crushed his wrist. His head snapped up to see Amae’s tall stature.

“That’s enough,” Amae said. 

Leahir’s fingers tried to close around the hilt of his sword again, but then unclasped immediately as the pressure on the wrist increased and, despite the quite soft soil underneath, became unbearable. 

“Quit it,” Amae warned. “Your play has already gone too far.”

“Get your damn foot off my wrist!” Leahir growled out. He wondered what the hell his guards were doing, but then realized that since Amae was unarmed, they had not considered the concubine dangerous. Leahir tried to kick Amae off, but the former concubine jumped aside to avoid his legs. Leahir howled in pain as he received a kick to his dislocated shoulder. Tsking, Amae kicked the sword aside, out of Leahir’s reach. 

“You belong to me and you’ll obey!” Leahir spat out angrily after he had recovered from the pain. He blinked his blurry eyes at the former concubine. He wanted to get up, but froze as Amae’s boot suddenly hung suspended in the air just above his dislocated shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down!” Amae hissed at him. 

His eyes shot warningly to Leahir’s guards as they made a move to approach him. The concubine was still unarmed so he could not cause much trouble, except that his boot was just at the right angle to bring Leahir a considerable amount of pain. The guards stopped.

“Don’t put me on the same level as him,” Amae motioned at Kyota with his head. “Do you really think I believed that Wolfram sold me?” He snickered, rolling his eyes. “But you’re getting too intense now. He came for me, didn’t he? You can finish your game now,” he said, lowering his foot. “I’ll get to you in a minute, but first I want to see how my knight in shining armor is doing.”

Feeling the fervor of the fight draining out of his body, Leahir sat up. He chuckled at Amae’s receding back. “He’s not worthy of you, really.”

Amae shrugged. “Probably. Or maybe it’s me who is not worthy of him.”

From the ground, where he was kneeling and supporting himself with his left hand, Kyota watched the approaching Amae. Then his eyes flickered to Leahir who now was surrounded by his guards. 

Kyota groaned softly. “Shit.” He raised his head to look at Amae who had kneeled next to him to take a look at his arm. “Why didn’t you stop us if you knew this was only a scam?” he spat reproachfully. He yelped in pain as, instead of unbuttoning his uniform, Amae just tore it open at the shoulder. The concubine must have decided that the tattered uniform was not worth saving and that sharp but short pain was better than mild but long.

“Kyota,” Amae said in a serious voice, “a real man, at least once in his life, should have someone duel for him.”

Kyota couldn’t help chuckling then grimaced in pain as Amae tore the rest of the sleeve off. He tied it just above the wound, then the buttons flew in all directions when he tore at the rest of the uniform.

“No ribs broken,” he said after inspecting Kyota’s stomach and chest. “You’ll be in for quite a lot of pain for quite a while, though. The wound on the arm,” he continued, tearing off another piece of Kyota’s uniform, “is quite deep and you have a few muscles cut, but it’s nice and clean and should heal in a few weeks’ time.”

“Amae?” Leahir called from amidst of his guards. “If you ever get bored with him, you know where to find me,” he said after the concubine looked at him.

“No one is going to look for you,” Amae shot back. “How is your shoulder?” he asked.

“Hurts.”

“Good. The more, the better.”

Leahir chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose this is what you get for matchmaking.”

“You really took this too far,” Amae said. He pointed at Kyota’s arm. “And this is what you get for being an idiot. Sure, it’s romantic and stuff but still an idiocy, mind you.”

Their eyes met and Kyota blushed wildly. He lowered his head. Meanwhile Amae finished wrapping a new piece of cloth around his arm. A few seconds later Leahir shook off the amazement. And this was Kyota, the man who never held his tongue in cheek, who never blushed... Really, Kyota had fallen hard.

XXXXX

“Hey,” Yuuri greeted after having entered his husband’s study.

Wolfram raised his head to give him a short smile then concentrated back on the document he had before him. Yuuri walked to the desk his husband was sitting at. He circled it to stand behind the blond.

“Here,” he said, putting an elaborate envelope on a pile of documents Wolfram had been reading.

Wolfram looked at the envelope in front of him. “Looks like an invitation to a wedding,” he said before taking it. 

“But you don’t know whose yet,” Yuuri said, watching him gingerly take out the card. “And what do you think of that?” he asked after his husband had finished reading it. He leaned on the desk next to Wolfram.

Wolfram lowered the card. “I am not sure,” he muttered. He gave Yuuri a look. “But it’s not really surprising, is it?”

Yuuri regarded him with quite a sardonic look. “Well, you can be proud of yourself. Recently you’ve been playing matchmaking quite a lot. Them, and Lakarde with that whatshisname.”

“It’s Dimera von Rikota,” Wolfram said matter-of-factly. He gave his husband an inquiring look. He was not certain whether Yuuri was just stating a fact, or for some reason was annoyed or was merely teasing him. He decided it did not really matter, as two months ago Yuuri had happily accepted the invitation to watch the “theater” called Kyota and Leahir’s duel for Amae from the windows of Wolfram’s very study. The two of them had been grinning like idiots the entire time.

“I don’t understand what you’re so unhappy about,” Wolfram said, his voice sounding too low and carrying a few notes of irritation and jeer in it. “It’s two birds with one stone: you can finally stop worrying about Kyota’s cunning plans to marry me one day; and you can stop going nuts about Amae declaring his undying love for me and dragging me into his bed.”

Yuuri fought a twinge of shame down and scowled at his husband. “Oh, a part of me really wants to just drop everything and celebrate this good riddance with two bottles of Vodka till tomorrow’s morning. There’s this “but”, though,” he said wryly. “I’ve received three written objections to their marriage. One is from Kyota’s mother. Now tell me, dear, what the fuck should I do?”

“First, you should stop cursing,” Wolfram shot back. “It doesn’t suit you. Secondly, you should give them your blessing. I don’t remember you ever being prejudiced against social standing or race.”

“The Duchess threatens to challenge Kyota’s rights as Docharo successor and exclude Kyota from her will.”

Wolfram felt a grin appear on his lips. “I see Kyota is in for some domestic fun. And what about the other two?”

“One is Kyota’s brother, Arisu Mordana.”

Now Wolfram grinned from ear to ear. “I am sure in a month or so Arisu will want to marry Amae himself. Even if they are half-brothers, their tastes run quite similarly, don’t you think? Maybe he wrote the letter because he’s already jealous and wants Amae for himself?” he joked.

Yuuri grunted out something. “The Countess of Archwalz has also expressed her displeasure,” he added.

“Ah, the one who was desperately trying to get Kyota to marry her? Well, sure she would, sure she would,” Wolfram sniggered.

“Eh? Never heard of that,” Yuuri wondered. “For gods’ sake, Wolfram, this is not a laughing matter!” he glared at his husband, who now was laughing loudly.

Wolfram tried to stifle his laughter. He was not even sure why he was laughing. Kyota was in for a hell of a lot of trouble. But at the same time Wolfram knew that it was pointless, those letters, those protests. It had already been decided. Not by them, not by anyone, very likely not even by Amae or Kyota. It just felt as if it had been decided a long, long time ago.

“You know,” Wolfram said after he calmed down a little, “I think there’s really someone up there,” he pointed at the ceiling. “Someone who likes a good joke.”

Yuuri felt an involuntary smile tug at the corner of his lips. There was no lack of people Kyota had slept with, there was no lack of hearts he had broken, there was no lack of those wishing to marry him, and he just had to go and fall head over heels in love with a nameless concubine.

“Damnit,” Yuuri cursed, “it seems I’ll have to give my blessing. He will go and marry him anyway, won’t he?”

Wolfram nodded. “No doubt about it, especially now when they have gone so far as to send their objections to you. But I’m more worried about how long their marriage will last.”

“They’d better stay married for at least a month so as not to make me look like a total fool,” Yuuri muttered. He rummaged about in the inner pocket of his jacket. “Here,” he threw the letters onto Wolfram’s desk, “write back whatever you want to them, I’ll sign.”

“It seems to me you’re just dumping your work on me,” Wolfram chuckled, scooping up the letters.

“Well, he’s YOUR friend.”

“I’d assume that after so many years he has also become one of yours?”

Yuuri shrugged his shoulders. He sighed. “But a very annoying one.”

XXXXX

Yuuri’s eyes opened and he shifted from his comfortable position in the pool when he heard someone enter the baths. He had been nearly drowsing already. A moment later the sounds of a bench being pushed and toiletries rattling followed. Yuuri turned to the direction they came from. Vaguely, he could make out a figure amidst the steam. 

“Done with the letters?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes.”

A soft tap of feet was heard. Wolfram lowered the toiletries he had been carrying to the floor and slid into the water next to Yuuri. “Ahh,” he exhaled blissfully. He sat down, reclined his head on the edge of the pool and closed his eyes. This was just what he needed – a hot bath after a day of hard work.

“So what did you say?” Yuuri asked.

Wolfram frowned at the reminder of his work. “I told them to shove it. In a very polite manner, of course.”

“You do realize that Katarina and Arisu sent those letters to me knowing I’d show them to you? They expected you’d try and talk Kyota out of marrying that unworthy low-class.”

Irritated, Wolfram opened his eyes. He turned his head to look at his husband. “I know that they’re worried, Yuuri. But it’s Kyota’s choice no matter how it ends. You knew beforehand that he’d have my support. For gods’ sakes, Kyota was in love with me and even then he supported me when I married you! You can’t expect me to go against him wanting to marry Amae!”

Yuuri nodded. “Well, yeah. But I just had not expected you to support him so openly.”

Wolfram shrugged. “It’s two people I care about.” He looked at Yuuri’s head. “Want me to wash your hair?” he offered, forcefully indicating the conversation about Kyota and Amae should be dropped.

“Sure,” Yuuri agreed. Enough was enough. It was obvious that Wolfram had mixed feelings about Kyota and Amae’s oncoming marriage. Yuuri figured that among other things it had also to do with Wolfram’s anxiety about Kyota finally getting a life of his own. He guessed that, during the years, Wolfram had developed some kind of possessiveness towards his friend. It had been convenient when Kyota came and went at his beckon. And then probably part of the reason for Wolfram’s anxiety was that he himself understood where all of it was coming from and he was angry with himself.

Yuuri watched his husband turning to the edge of the pool where he had put the toiletries. In the glittering light of oil lamps, he picked out a pear-shaped bottle of shampoo. Yuuri nodded contentedly to himself. Wolfram might be a little uneasy, but Yuuri was pleased that Kyota had finally decided to marry. Of course, Wolfram knew this too.

Yuuri moved closer to Wolfram. He ducked into the water to wet his hair, wiped the water off his face then sat down. The water came just a little above his shoulders. Wolfram moved in to straddle him from behind and soon Yuuri felt his fingers thread through his hair.

“Recline your head.”

Warm fingers slid over his forehead and Yuuri exhaled with satisfaction. He loved Wolfram washing his hair. In addition to being simply pleasant, it felt like a little bonding ritual of theirs.

“Lakarde is coming home in two weeks,” Wolfram said a few minutes later, massaging Yuuri’s scalp. 

Yuuri could hear fondness in Wolfram’s voice. He grinned. “I hope that when I am away, you miss me as much as you miss him.”

Wolfram pulled at his hair warningly. Yuuri winced.

“It will be nice to have him back,” Yuuri conceded. “Recently his character has improved too.”

“He grew up,” Wolfram said simply.

Yuuri hummed in answer. He wondered whether the “growing-up” had anything to do with a certain blue-haired youth. According to Mazoku laws, Lakarde still had three years to go before becoming an adult and therefore a rightful member of society. 

“Lean forward.”

Yuuri did as told and Wolfram emptied a few pots of water over his head to wash the shampoo off. Blinking water out of his eyes, Yuuri felt his husband move even closer to him, then the blond’s hands pressed against his back. They smoothed over his muscles then slid upwards to his shoulders.

Yuuri had a broad and strong back. Wolfram’s palms slid back over the smooth skin, measuring every rise and sink of muscles.

“Yuuri?” Wolfram hummed, starting to kiss his nape.

“Hmm?” Yuuri answered, his head falling forward to give better access to the pleasurable treatment.

“I hope both of us will live a good long life.”

“You forgot to add ‘together’.”

“Hmm… Who knows? Not necessarily. Just a good long life.”

“Don’t start brooding too much,” Yuuri muttered softly, reaching out with his arm behind him. He stroked the blond’s still dry hair awkwardly. “I’m sure he’ll come and visit you from time to time. Or you can visit him. Well, them.”

There was silence behind Yuuri and he knew that his husband was not sure whether to take his words as a real sympathy or a mock.

“I wasn’t really thinking about them,” the prince said finally.

“I know,” Yuuri agreed. “But sometimes you just tend to get too deep into it. Why think about it? Now we feel good together, don’t we? Have felt so for a very long time. Don’t concentrate on something far away instead of forgetting to treasure ‘here and now’.”

Wolfram sighed and slid closer to Yuuri, his half-bent legs pressing to his husband’s sides. He leaned his head against Yuuri’s back and his arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist under the water. 

His hand now was in uncomfortable position and Yuuri retracted his hand from the blond hair. He could feel Wolfram’s chin and regular puffs of breath against his bare skin. It felt good to have the blond’s solid weight against his back. It was familiar, warm and secure.

A few minutes later the prince shifted and Yuuri felt moist lips caress his right shoulder blade. The prince’s mouth soon moved to Yuuri’s shoulder. 

“This feels nice,” Yuuri hummed approvingly. 

One of Wolfram’s hands unclasped from Yuuri’s waist and slid downwards toward his crotch. “It doesn’t seem that you’re lying,” Wolfram agreed, his fingers brushing over Yuuri’s hardening member. His other hand swept Yuuri’s hair off his nape to press a gentle kiss to it.

After a few more tender strokes, Yuuri spread his legs a little more and closed his eyes. He let his body rest against Wolfram’s and enjoyed the leisurely pace in the churning water. At first the rhythm made him numb and relaxed while pleasure was slowly building up in his lower stomach and spreading all over his body. Wolfram’s other hand was drawing soothing circles on his stomach. Then his hips began rocking in tune with the blond’s fist. He soon found himself chasing after every bit of contact and it was still not enough as the pleasure started concentrating only in his lower belly, pulsing.

“Hmm… Wolfram,” Yuuri moaned, trying to make Wolfram do whatever he was intending to do. Whether it was to bring him to an orgasm like this or to take him or let himself be taken, whatever it was, Yuuri wanted it to happen sooner.

“Faster…” he sighed with a roll of his hips with more force than the blond’s hand was offering.

Wolfram chuckled behind his back. His lips flittered over Yuuri’s nape. His pace on Yuuri’s length, instead of becoming faster, slowed down. Yuuri expressed his dissatisfaction with a low rumble.

That made Wolfram chuckle again. “What,” he purred in a husky voice against Yuuri’s neck, “not in the mood for games?”

“In the mood for fucking, though,” Yuuri grunted out.

He suddenly grasped Wolfram by his busy hand. The king slid aside as far as his confinement between the blond’s legs would allow and tugged his husband forward from behind him. As soon as the blond slid free from him, he turned and grabbed him around the waist. The water sloshed about in the bath and in a heartbeat a startled Wolfram found himself in Yuuri’s lap, staring at his husband’s dark eyes. He was quite impressed that Yuuri managed to do this without dislodging his arm and/or dunking him face-first into the water.

Yuuri smiled at Wolfram’s startled look. He pulled Wolfram higher in his arms, seating him on his lap then leaned in to issue a kiss. Wolfram’s mouth opened slightly and he answered eagerly. In a few seconds his arms wove themselves around the black-haired man’s neck and shoulders, his hands and fingers sliding into Yuuri’s wet hair to deepen the kiss.

They broke away panting lightly. Wolfram rubbed himself against Yuuri’s hard-on he could feel poking his thigh.

“Mm…” Yuuri grunted, his breath catching in his throat.

Wolfram’s arms slid off his husband’s shoulders down over Yuuri’s sides, stroking patches of his skin on their way. At first they stopped to rest on Yuuri’s hips, but then glided downwards and backwards to grab his ass, their final destination. It was not that it was unexpected but Yuuri started anyway.

“Yuuri…” Wolfram purred, nibbling on his husband’s lips. 

Yuuri could discern soft undertones of insistence in the way the blond said his name. He tried to coax Wolfram’s lips into a full kiss but the blond retreated again, only to continue with his assertive nibbling and grazing on his lips and neck. A short while later he raised his head to give Yuuri a lusty look then lowered it again to claim the dark-haired man’s lips. He leaned forward, now straddling and nearly overlying Yuuri.

Yuuri tried to keep himself upright but soon his upper half was nearly submerged, the ends of his hair floating in the water. Even if it was him who was between the blond’s legs, he was not deceived by that – the predatory look Wolfram was giving him was telling him that it was him tonight who would end up with his legs spread.

“W-Wolfram,” Yuuri panted out, breathless, “you’ll drown me.”

“Unless you resist,” Wolfram chuckled thickly against Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose. “When did I?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Wolfram said sardonically. “When didn’t you?” He bit Yuuri lightly on his collarbone. Yuuri grunted and his cock twitched in between of their stomachs. Wolfram knew that no matter what Yuuri thought of this or what excuse he always used to justify his liking to be taken by a man, he greatly enjoyed this. “You’re twisted in the head,” Wolfram muttered. “Have always been.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Yuuri agreed. He tried to lift himself but Wolfram used his weight to push him down again.

“Tsk-tsk.” Wolfram’s hand slid upwards to grab Yuuri’s hair and lift his head. He smashed their lips together. Yuuri groaned into his mouth at the rough handling.

In a minute, aware that he was holding his husband’s back in an awkward angle, Wolfram let go. He slid off Yuuri and stood up. He offered his hand for his husband to help him to get to his feet. 

As soon as he was upright, Yuuri found himself pressed to Wolfram, the blond attacking his mouth, ravishing him, his hands stroking and squeezing him in all the right places. Yuuri started to feel overwhelmed by the prince’s attention.

Between their kisses and caresses, Yuuri found himself being maneuvered backwards to the stone edge of the bath. He shivered once his legs propped against the cool surface. He wanted to step back but Wolfram bodily pushed him forward even further until he was nearly sitting down on it. 

“Wolfram…”

Wolfram gave one last squeeze for his husband’s left buttock and stepped back. Yuuri leaned forward but then found himself being grabbed and turned around. The prince pushed him forward, bending him over.

Yuuri stared at the stone edge of the bath before his eyes while his ass was high in the air. He licked his swollen lips then braced himself with his palms on the stony surface. Wolfram’s hands were caressing his back in slow smoothing circles, then sliding around to stroke his sides. Yuuri closed his eyes, surrendering to the pleasurable attention. He felt Wolfram bend over him, the blond’s mouth pressing to his feverish skin. His lips traveled southwards, leaving a trail of wet kisses over his shoulder blades and going further down his back.

Wolfram’s palms massaged his globes, kneading and stroking, then his thumbs slid forward to spread them. In a moment something slick and warm glided over Yuuri’s crease. A moan escaped Yuuri’s lips when he realized what it was. As it reached his anus, he bucked unconsciously, his body suddenly feeling heavy with want. Despite this, the tongue slid further down without showing interest in his opening. It reached his perineum where it stroked with vigor. Yuuri spread his legs further apart.

The tongue stayed there for a minute then swept upwards again until it flicked over his opening. Yuuri groaned, his head dropping forward on its own accord to press against the cool edge of the bath. Wolfram’s tongue did not stay there, though. His mouth pressed to Yuuri’s lower back, his teeth lightly grazing the flushed skin there. His palms seized Yuuri’s ass to squeeze and knead again. Yuuri would have spread his legs even wider if there was any chance in Wolfram returning quickly to what he had been doing previously. Only he knew that that would make Wolfram slow down deliberately. Besides, he was pretty certain that he was already blatantly open and inviting.

Wolfram’s mouth had reached Yuuri’s right buttock and his teeth offered slight pressure. It did not hurt any, the teeth against his skin felt erotic and Yuuri bucked unconsciously. He was breathing heavily against the stony edge. The teeth soon were gone, replaced with the slick tongue that brushed over his entrance again, which made Yuuri groan. After another sweep of Wolfram’s tongue over his opening, Yuuri’s legs quivered, losing their strength and he transferred almost all of his weight to his upper body, now half-lying on the stone wall, his right side of the face pressed to it. He found its surface pleasantly cool.

The tongue circled the quivering ring of muscles, slowly, teasingly. Yuuri moaned and bucked backwards but Wolfram’s hands kept him in place. Relishing the desperate sounds his husband was making, he lapped at the twitching opening again. Yuuri shivered and bucked under him.

He teased Yuuri for a few minutes with his tongue, hands and mouth, leaving Yuuri’s body taut and strung for much more contact than it was getting. Yuuri could tell his cock was leaking profusely, his balls hard, the pressure making him tremble.

“Wolfram…” Yuuri moaned, trying to rub his backside against the blond’s front. But Wolfram was too far for him to reach. Then he tried to press himself tighter to the edge of the bath and rub his hard-on there. Denying him any relief, the blond tugged at his hips to pull him backwards. 

“Wolfram, please,” Yuuri groaned, “I can’t take it anymore. Let me come.”

Wolfram watched his husband’s arching back, his ass rising higher and simply wanted to ram himself home. But instead he convinced himself that following his original plan and prolonging this would give much more pleasure. 

The tongue was suddenly back, wetting and rubbing over Yuuri’s opening. He moaned as it finally breached the ring of his muscles and slid inside. 

“Damn. Ohh… Yessss,” Yuuri breathed out heavily as it licked and stroked inside him. It thrust forwards and backwards. Yuuri felt himself getting looser and slicker. Yuuri’s own tongue snuck out of his mouth to wet his dry lips. “C’mon, Wolfram,” he panted, “quit teasing and just...” Yuuri could not finish the sentence. With a soft thud his head came back to rest on the edge again. 

He knew that if Wolfram was the one to dirty-talk, now he would have had a perfect opportunity to throw at least ten banalities at him. He still could not figure out whether Wolfram just found dirty-talking redundant or it was that Wolfram avoided it because of Yuuri.

Wolfram was suddenly overlying Yuuri. “Yeah, I think I will do that ‘just’…” he groaned, his voice low and strained, showing he wanted this as much as Yuuri, if not more. His chest pressed to Yuuri’s back, his cock rubbed against the dark-haired male’s backside. He planted a few wet kisses to Yuuri’s shoulder blades. “C’mon,” he husked against the flushed skin, “get that bottle for me.”

Yuuri swallowed hard and tried to think about which bottle his husband was talking about, but it was a nearly impossible task with the blond rubbing at his ass so insistently. “Wha-what bottle?” he asked weakly.

“On your left,” Wolfram prompted, letting out a chuckle soaked with lust.

Yuuri’s eyes swept to the opposite direction from the one he had been looking at. True, a few meters away from the edge there was a familiar bottle. He swallowed again and tried to concentrate. “How do you imagine I’ll get it?” he grunted, after having reached out but flailing about with his hand uselessly. 

“Climb?” Wolfram suggested. “The view of your naked ass flouncing about will really be nice,” he purred, his hips pushing forward at Yuuri to emphasize his words. “Hurry.”

Yuuri’s mouth opened to let out a soft moan at the blond’s length slipping right past his crease. He opened his eyes which he did not even realize were closed. “Right,” he muttered, trying to set the far off bottle as his target. He shuddered again as his husband rubbed himself on his ass. “Listen,” Yuuri licked his dry lips, his hips trying to push back unconsciously, “I’ll never work up enough mo- ooohhh,” he groaned as Wolfram’s palms slid over his sides to his stomach and cupped his testicles. He suddenly found himself standing on his tiptoes, pressing himself into the blond’s hand. “…mo-motivation to move if you keep doing thissss,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Yuuri felt Wolfram retreat from him and with shaky hands he pushed himself off the edge. He did not risk turning around, instead, after waiting a few seconds to get his bearings back, he heaved himself up and over the edge. He crawled to the bottle to grab it, then started inching backwards into the pool again. He yelped loudly at the sharp smack on his ass. He turned around to stare at the blond in surprise. Wolfram just chuckled at him, looking back at him with an expression which told Yuuri that he had just felt like it. 

They had tried spanking, of course, but neither of them was very keen on it. But if Yuuri had any say in this, he would point out that, between them both, Wolfram was the one to have an inclination towards rougher sex. The blond was nowhere near extremes, but he did enjoy when Yuuri would offer more force during their lovemaking. He also was often more forceful than Yuuri when taking.

Yuuri did not notice how it happened, but while he was rubbing the abused part of his body, the bottle had changed hands. Under the blond’s scrutinizing gaze, he slid back into the pool. He felt conscious of the way his cock twitched at Wolfram’s attention. Yuuri suddenly realized that he was sticky with pre-come. His own gaze wandered over the blond’s naked body before him. His husband was equally aroused and hard. Yuuri watched him unscrew the bottle, then pour some of the clear liquid onto his palm. 

Yuuri’s breath quickened as the blond’s fist encircled his member to smear the lubricant over it. Wolfram was pumping slowly, watching him with half-lidded eyes, cloudy with pleasure. Yuuri badly wanted either to step forward and join his husband or at least to start touching himself to relieve the pressure in his loins. He did neither, though. Then he saw the blond let go of himself and lift the bottle again.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

Yuuri’s eyes rose back to the blond’s face. Complying, he turned around to face the stone edge again. He bent over, placing his palms on it to support himself. He shivered as slick and cool fingers brushed over his opening. They circled it then slid inside. As he was quite relaxed already, the digits did not stay inside him for long. They stroked forwards and backwards to lubricate him, then withdrew completely.

Yuuri tensed involuntary at the feel of the blond’s cock slipping in between his cheeks. The blunt head found its target, then pushed against the outer ring of muscles and, after offering more pressure, slipped inside. 

“Oh, yesss,” Yuuri let out a low guttural moan, feeling the length sliding in. He rubbed the side of his face against the stone edge while the blond stretched him. His opening contracted around Wolfram’s cock, gripping it tighter. The spasms repeated a few times more then the constriction lessened, letting Wolfram bury himself all the way inside.

Letting Yuuri adjust to him, Wolfram rocked their hips together without thrusting. He leaned over his husband and started softly grazing on his back and shoulders. His endurance was wearing thin and he grunted appreciatively when he felt Yuuri thrust backwards, showing him that he was ready. Then he leaned away and seized Yuuri’s hips. At first he moved backwards and forwards tentatively, then found a rhythm they both were comfortable with. 

As the hard length was pumping in and out of him, Yuuri raised his ass higher. With every thrust, the pleasure concentrating in his ass burst through his entire body. He soon found that what Wolfram was giving was not enough.

Yuuri’s body tensed as Wolfram, as if reading his mind, reached around him and wrapped his palm around Yuuri’s erection. He started stroking him in tune with his thrusts into the other man’s body. 

“Oh, yes,” Yuuri panted as new sparks of pleasure started coursing through his body. He rubbed his cheek against the cool stone edge. Now his whole body was being rocked by Wolfram’s thrusts. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned. “Hnh, yes!”

Wolfram increased his pace and thrust harder. There was no thought now of prolonging the pleasure. All he wanted now was to come. Yuuri cursing meant that he was on the brink of orgasm. Wolfram blinked sweat out of his eyes. From his eyelashes it ran downwards to gather on the tip of his nose and then dropped on the small of Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri’s nails scrapped against the stone while his hips tried to push back against the blond’s to get as much of that length as was possible into himself. He could feel it coming, the strain overloading, the pleasure and heat not managing to accommodate themselves in his cock and backside. A few more thrusts… And then the wave washed over him, leaving his mind suddenly blank, only his body basking in the overwhelming pleasure.

A few seconds later when Yuuri came round, he found his lower half pressed to the edge. Wolfram was not really holding him, but the blond’s mindless rocking of their hips was preventing Yuuri from sliding into the water. Wolfram was still in the heights of his orgasm.

Yuuri grunted as the blond’s heavy weight sagged onto his back. Wolfram’s fervent panting against Yuuri’s skin made him grin contentedly.

“Can you stand up?” Yuuri asked a minute later when he thought that Wolfram’s euphoria had somewhat dissipated.

Wolfram pushed himself away from him then Yuuri yelped at something sharp gliding across his right thigh. Then there was a loud splash. Yuuri turned around to see his husband nearly submerged in the pool on his hands and knees.

“No,” Wolfram said the obvious, sitting down.

Yuuri looked at his right thigh. As far as he could see in the half-light of the lamps, there was a long reddish trace going along it. There was no blood, just a rosy scratch. Wolfram had tried to keep his balance and caught him with a nail. Yuuri raised his head to look at his husband who, despite being hardly sensible, managed to look guilty.

“Sorry.”

“Never mind,” Yuuri said. He moved forward to sit down next to the blond. Once comfortably sitting, he embraced and leaned Wolfram against his chest. Yuuri felt sleepy and pleasantly drained. “How I wish we were in our bed,” he muttered wistfully. “When I think about the stairs that we-”

Wolfram groaned at the thought. 

For a few minutes, they stayed silently like this, leaning against each other, then climbed out of the pool. They toweled off and dressed their robes. Leaving the rest of the clothes for the maids to gather, they left the baths. Guards saluted them as they passed corridors, heading for their chambers.

Yuuri cast a glance at the balcony they were passing. The old lime tree was still there, lit by the bleary moonlight. Its rusty leaves were flapping and tearing around in the harsh autumn wind. How old was it now? A hundred? No, at least two. Years were passing so fast. What was it he had wanted to do here, in Shin Makoku? Was it adventure…? No, it was just at the beginning. Ah, right. He had wanted to bring peace to this world. He had been so young back then, so naive and so idealistic. But he had succeeded. He had power, he had the right people and the needed resources. He had turned his lands into an oasis. Nobody knew how long it would last – a year or two, fifty, a hundred or until he died. He still had a lot of work to do to make sure the peace pacts and accords that he had worked so hard on to sign and maintain would not collapse like a house of cards if anything happened to him.

“What do you think will happen in a fifty years’ time?” Yuuri asked while opening the door to the royal chambers.

Wolfram gave him a sleepy stare. Yuuri seemed to be serious. Wondering about the sudden change in his husband’s mood, Wolfram followed him into the room. “Don’t worry, wimp,” he yawned, patting Yuuri on his shoulder. “Whatever happens, you’re safe with me by your side.”

**THE END**


	27. Part 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.  
> Warnings: Yaoi (male x male), Dimera x Lakarde.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N 1: The epilogue will concern only Lakarde and Dimera.   
> A/N 2: Lakarde – 15. Dimera – 17+.  
> A/N 3: Yuuri – 47. Wolfram…let’s say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older.

**Inexorable Flow**

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

**Epilogue**

oOoOoOo_Three Years Later_oOoOoOo

Dimera was slinking carefully towards the door at the very end of the half-lit corridor. It was deserted, only an occasional squeak from the old wooden walls filling the air or the sounds of snoring heard here and there. He knew that if he was to be caught roaming so late after curfew, he would get into very serious trouble. Keeping in mind that there was only a few months left until he graduated from the Academy, the last thing he wanted was trouble. But then, there was also the matter of what he wanted the most before graduating.

The door Dimera had been looking for and finally found was marked with the number “17” and also by a muddy footprint right in the middle. After opening the door, he snuck into the darkness. Lakarde and his roommate were sleeping. It was cold in the room. The wind must be blowing right through the windows even while closed; they were so poorly insulated. It was no wonder Lakarde got ill quite frequently.

Now, when Dimera was finally in the room, he suddenly realized that he had no idea what he wanted to do. He had no plan actually – it had never occurred to him that he might need one. He had just decided he had to see Lakarde and here he was, standing at Lakarde’s bed while the boy was sound asleep. He felt like a complete idiot. He did not even know if this was really Lakarde’s bed he was standing at. He had never been in Lakarde’s room.

“Who’s hr-?”

Dimera did not even think before shooting to the bed and covering what he thought was Lakarde’s mouth.

“Wh…mhmhph!”

“It’s me.”

While keeping his palm on Lakarde’s mouth, Dimera realized that there was no reason why Lakarde shouldn’t punch him right now. He had felt like an idiot earlier, but the feeling he had had previously was nothing to compare with the current one. Nonetheless, after a few chaotic and mindless seconds he realized that Lakarde was not resisting.

A minute flame flared to life next to the bed. When Dimera was at last able to see Lakarde’s face, he pulled his hand away as if it were burning. Lakarde’s eyes were reddish with sleep and were promising murder. Today, all of the sixth years had had a harsh day of training and all Lakarde wanted was to sleep. 

The blond sat up. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “In the middle of the night?” he added for a good measure.

Nervously, Dimera suddenly took interest in the fire floating next to him. “I’m not that sure.” He fidgeted with the upper buttons on his uniform while Lakarde was staring at him. An idiot, he was a complete idiot.

“Well aren’t you just an idiot?” Lakarde asked rhetorically. He lay down then flicked his wrist to extinguish the fire. “You will cause trouble if caught while returning to your room. Take off your clothes and get into the bed,” he said while turning on his side. “Don’t try anything funny and don’t wake up Rial.”

“Too late already,” the voice wafted from the other side of the room. “Don’t mind me – have lots of that “funny”,” he added.

Lakarde yawned loudly “Shut it. On second thought, you can leave the clothes on – it’s cold anyway,” he addressed Dimera again.

Dimera stared in the darkness at where he thought the blond’s back was. Lakarde had never shown much interest in him, but neither had the blond ever indicated that his attention was unpleasant. Dimera could hardly believe this. Maybe it was just what it took to… Cutting the thought short, Dimera took his jacket off, pulled the belt out of his trousers, took his boots off, groped around for the cover on Lakarde then snuck into the warmth. The bed was small and there was hardly enough space for both of them, besides it was not so easy to think about sleep with Lakarde right in front of him.

Lakarde smelled of something nice, Dimera noticed a few seconds later. It was probably the blond’s shampoo. Dimera turned on his back, and the bed creaked. He couldn’t fall asleep for quite some time but restrained himself from tossing and turning so as not to disturb Lakarde.

XXXXX

Lakarde shifted to turn over on his back. Something was restricting him and he roused slowly. Hardly conscious, his sleepy mind wondered what the problem was. Shifting to test the boundaries once again, he gave up and opened his eyes.

Why was Dimera wrapped around him?

Lakarde closed his eyes as he remembered. Dimera was sleeping on his side, his arm thrown over Lakarde. The older boy had somehow rolled up to him in his sleep and now his face was buried in his chest and he could feel Dimera’s soft breathing.

Lakarde yawned loudly. He wasn’t sure what to think of all this. Then he felt the older boy stirring too. Dimera’s arm slid away off his waist. He hummed something while rubbing at his eyes. Then Lakarde felt Dimera’s entire body start. He raised his tousled head to look at the blond.

“You’d better go before the siren goes off.”

“Right,” Dimera said after a long pause.

The bed shifted and creaked and he was out of the bed. For a while, Lakarde watched him pulling his boots on and searching for the belt on the floor, then he decided to catch some sleep and turned away to face the wall. Lakarde tensed as he felt Dimera’s lips press to the back of his neck. 

“Thank you. We’ll talk later, alright?”

“Yeah,” Lakarde muttered.

XXXXX

As usual, Lakarde was late for his evening bath. There were hardly any boys in the baths besides him. Two first-years and a second-year soon had finished with washing and had gone long before Lakarde was done, leaving him all alone in the baths.

Lakarde took his time while washing to relax. He hardly finished before curfew, even knowing that if caught so late he would get punished for disobeying the rules. He was drying his hair with a towel when he heard the bathroom door open and saw it let in another visitor. He couldn’t discern who it was through the steam but knew that if he had not been shouted at yet, then it meant it was someone also late for his bath.

“Lakarde.”

Arms snuck around Lakarde’s waist. Startled, Lakarde pulled the towel off his head and twirled around to face a blue-haired youth. He would have probably hit the older boy had he not recognized Dimera’s voice. Standing in Dimera’s embrace, the blue-haired youth’s hands resting on his waist, Lakarde stared at him. 

“I think we need to discuss something,” Dimera said carefully. He was aware of Lakarde’s surprise. The other boy’s body was all tenseness. “We are going to graduate from the Academy in a few months. There won’t be many chances for us to meet anymore. I don’t want to think that this thing between us will be over just like that.”

“This thing?” Lakarde repeated carefully. He wasn’t sure what exactly Dimera meant. Yes, there had been some kind of weird understanding and acceptance of each other between both of them all through these last few years, but… They had not been meeting to hang out together; they had not gone to each other rooms except for today. One could hardly even call them friends. On the other hand, Lakarde had never doubted Dimera’s promise from four years ago. There were things like Dimera’s glances and smiles at him, sometimes teasing, sometimes just warm, which had kept his memory fresh. But Lakarde had kept his distance. He neither had encouraged nor discouraged Dimera’s interest. And Dimera had never demanded more. Was there really “this thing” between them?

Lakarde noticed that Dimera tried to keep his eyes from wandering, but they still went to the towel covering Lakarde’s hips which was poorly fastened and was close to sliding off. Lakarde pushed at Dimera’s chest to get himself free, but he did not let go.

“Lakarde, do you like me?” Dimera asked seriously.

“Let go!” Lakarde demanded. He grabbed at his towel which had started sliding down after squirming too much. 

Dimera frowned at him. He seemed to have only waited for the pressure on his chest to disappear as he wrapped his arms around the blond and tugged him towards himself to firmly press the younger boy to his body.

His arms pressed to his sides and rendered helpless, Lakarde stared up at the blue-haired boy from up close. Dimera was older and stronger than him physically and Lakarde would have felt threatened, but along with a hint of visible irritation there was also a quite playful smile on Dimera’s face.

“Not scared, are you, Lakarde?” Dimera teased before lowering his head to cross the distance between their lips.

Lakarde did not have much time to think about the question and never voiced anything as Dimera’s lips descended on his and a dozen of different thoughts were born in his mind at once. For once, he had no idea what to do. It felt strange but exciting. Was he supposed to keep his eyes open? Then he could only think about the towel that started sliding down again. 

Lakarde gasped as a pang of pain flared through his lower lip. He startled as Dimera’s tongue slipped into his mouth. “Mphgh!” Lakarde protested, squirming to loosen the other’s hold on him. 

Dimera lifted his head and let himself be pushed away. He did not want to spite Lakarde in case the younger boy appeared not to have much interest in him. And it seemed that Lakarde did not like kissing that much. The blond stood naked in front of him, his towel pooling at his feet. He was slightly out of breath. He was also sprouting a light erection.

“You do like me, Lakarde, don’t you?”

Lakarde blinked at him then squatted down to pick his towel up. His ears blazed red. “Don’t go around asking stupid things,” he muttered while wrapping it clumsily around his hips again. “You’d have had your teeth kicked out through the back of your skull if I didn’t.”

The relief that flooded Dimera, almost made his knees buckle. He was certain that the bravado he had put on had cost him at least a few years of his life. He had been around, had had quite a few relationships here and there but when it came to Lakarde, he felt like a complete novice, blushing and stammering, his stomach tying itself into knots.

Lakarde’s eyes widened as the other stepped closer to him. Dimera seemed to have decided something since his eyes were looking at his face intently. Lakarde held his towel tightly in front of him and stepped back. He suddenly became painfully aware that Dimera was still wearing his uniform while he, except for this towel, was naked.

“Lakarde…”

The blond found himself reacting to the soft voice. He took another step backwards and inhaled sharply in surprise as a cold wall pressed to his back. Dimera closed the distance between them. He could not take the chance of Lakarde escaping again and fenced him in by putting his hands on the wall at Lakarde’s sides. They stared at each other from up close, face to face. 

During past four years Lakarde had grown quite a lot. He had not become lanky like many of the Human and some of Mazoku teenagers in the Academy, he grew proportionally, his body filling out. Despite Dimera being a few years older, Lakarde and he were nearly of the same height. Very likely, Lakarde was going to be even taller than him. Who would have thought?

Dimera noticed that Lakarde somewhat looked like a trapped animal, the boy’s eyes wide, his hands ready to shove at him if he made the least offensive move. Dimera pushed his body to Lakarde’s and pressed his mouth over the younger boy’s.

It was obvious that Lakarde had never kissed before. The blond was not sure what to do with his lips and, after he had pushed his tongue in between his lips, started to squirm. He did not like kissing. The towel started sliding again and Lakarde grabbed at it to hold it in front of him. 

After raising his head, Dimera watched the blond’s face. Lakarde blushed lightly and turned his head away. Then Dimera realized that it was not surprising that Lakarde was this inexperienced yet. Being von Bielefeld’s son he was quite sheltered in sexual matters. There was also the factor of people being afraid to meddle with the king’s husband’s son. He himself had waited for four years even though he felt that Lakarde’s father approved of him.

“You okay?”

Dimera laughed mentally at the way Lakarde’s eyes snapped up to glare at him. The anger in them wavered then turned into uncertainty as Dimera’s hand slid off the wall and then down Lakarde’s waist. Then it squeezed his left buttock. Lakarde tensed instantly, his hand going down to cover Dimera’s impulsively, wanting to push it away. But a second later it was obvious that Lakarde was not that sure about that anymore. Dimera entwined his fingers with Lakarde’s then raised their hands nearly to the height of Lakarde’s shoulder to keep it bay.

“It’s alright,” he leaned in to whisper softly into Lakarde’s ear. “I will stop as soon as you say you don’t like it.” He nipped on an earlobe and was rewarded with the blond’s gasp. He sucked and nipped again and felt Lakarde’s hips buck against him. The boy had done that unconsciously, but he could tell Lakarde himself had felt it too and now Dimera could feel the heat wafting off Lakarde’s face right where their cheeks were touching.

Dimera slid his other hand over the blond’s side. It stroked Lakarde’s hip then slid further until his fingers enclosed Lakarde’s hand which was holding the towel between them. He tugged at the towel. It held on for a few seconds then fell down onto their feet. Dimera had to restrain himself from looking down. Instead, he pressed a few light kisses on the blond’s neck. He was still somewhat afraid that the younger boy would bolt.

Most of Demera’s nervousness was wiped away after he raised his head and saw Lakarde’s face. The boy’s eyes were closed, his face flushed. As the contact stopped, Lakarde’s eyelids fluttered open and confused green swam up.

He had Lakarde now. 

Dimera pressed one kiss after another to Lakarde’s mouth and soon he coaxed Lakarde into answering. He could tell that it was awkward for Lakarde. The blond became even clumsier when he felt Dimera’s hand trying to get past his own covering his crotch. He tensed then blushed scarlet red as Dimera’s fingertips slid over his erect member. He grunted and turned his head aside as those fingers wrapped around him. They moved up and down gently. Staring over Dimera’s shoulder at the pool, his vision shuddery, suddenly Lakarde had no idea what to do with his left hand. His right one was still rendered inactive but he could vaguely feel that he was squeezing Dimera’s hand.

“Should…” Lakarde swallowed loudly. “Shouldn’t you take off your clothes too?” He bit back a moan that threatened to erupt from his throat as Dimera’s fingers rubbed over the head of his member. “You have me at disadvantage…”

“You think so?” Dimera asked, pressing his mouth to Lakarde’s collarbone. “I was sure,” he started strewing a trail of kisses along it, “that everything’s to your advantage.” He cupped Lakarde’s balls to prove his point. “Do you want me to take my uniform off?” he grazed at the skin under his mouth.

“I said I did,” Lakarde grunted out between the other’s ministrations.

Dimera’s low chuckle ghosted across Lakarde’s neck. As he did not know Lakarde’s preferences, he had presumed that it was safer to wear his uniform in case Lakarde realized he did not like seeing erect cocks. He moved away from Lakarde and started taking his clothes off. Lakarde, hard and uncomfortable, stood at the wall, then leaned down to pick up his towel. He did not have a chance as Dimera kicked it further from them.

“That towel is starting to get on my nerves,” he explained.

Lakarde straightened. Without saying a word, he watched Dimera pulling his trousers off. In a few seconds he stood naked. Dimera felt himself twitch as Lakarde’s gaze slid down his chest then down his stomach and concentrated there. He had to give it to Lakarde – the boy was bold.

“I’m bigger than you.”

Dimera stared. Lakarde grinned at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I think we are about the same,” Dimera managed finally. He started laughing. Even if used to cover up his awkwardness, Lakarde did have a sense of humor, it seemed.

Still chuckling, Dimera approached Lakarde. He did not feel that tremendous tension from the blond anymore. Lakarde did not shy away. It seemed that his clothed position had really been intimidating the other boy. It felt more natural now. Dimera leaned in press their lips together. He was delighted when Lakarde appeared to be much more responsive than earlier. He was still as clumsy as before but more eager and this just needed some practice.

A few minutes later they parted, saliva glistening on their mouths, their lips swollen. 

“I think I’m starting to get the hang of this,” Lakarde said.

Dimera nodded. He moved in even closer to press their bodies together, skin to skin. Their erections brushed against each other and he heard Lakarde’s sharp intake of air. He reached between them to grasp the blond. Lakarde’s body tensed at first then relaxed somewhat. 

It felt good, it felt really good. Lakarde closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He had never masturbated and even though it had never caused much discomfort, he knew it was not normal for a Mazoku of his age. It was not that he had not wanted to, he was plagued by the same sexual urges all the boys in the Academy were, it was that when he tried, he was always brought ten years back to the royal chambers where he was holding his privates and his father was staring at him with his eyes wide. He knew perfectly well that it had just been a surprise because he had been merely a child, besides, Wolfram had never said anything to him, but still those eyes…

Lakarde moaned softly and his hips thrust forward. It felt so good. The thoughts scattered around in incomprehensible patterns and Lakarde gave up on them. He could feel Dimera’s naked body pressed against him. The scents of arousal and lust were already hanging in the air around the other boy. Lakarde glanced between them. Was he supposed to…? 

Seeing Lakarde’s object of interest, Dimera reached out for the blond’s right hand. “Here, stroke mine too,” he said, placing Lakarde’s palm over him. The blond tensed against him, his eyelids sliding shut halfway. For a few seconds Lakarde did nothing then he felt the blond’s fingers wrapping around his length. “Smear the precum over it, it will slide easier.” 

Was it supposed to…feel this good to hold a dick in his palm? Lakarde stroked the hardness up and down, his hand having adapted to Dimera’s pace on him. But Dimera too wanted to… He suddenly realized that he had been moaning and stilled the sound.

“Oh, c’mon,” Dimera panted, pressing a sloppy kiss to Lakarde’s mouth, “nobody will hear us anyway.”

“If they catch us…” Lakarde grunted out, finding it difficult to concentrate on the consequences. “Oh gods…” he shivered at a sudden pleasurable wave that passed through his body when Dimera’s fingers rubbed over the tip of his member. The pressure in his lower stomach started increasing.

The world around him shrunk into the size of that fist that was stroking him and the pulsing heat between his legs and his right hand. With every stroke his body seemed to get heavier, pleasure spreading onwards, through every limb. The urge to come overtook his senses.

The blond’s hips pressed into him but his back leaned against the cold wall behind him and Dimera understood that he could not support his own weight anymore. Lakarde was close.

“Hold onto me.”

Nodding, Lakarde wrapped his left arm around the blue-haired boy’s neck and shoulders and leaned forward. Dimera realized that it had not been that good of an idea – now he could feel every puff of hot air against his neck, the vibrations of Lakarde’s soft suppressed moans going straight to his groin. He hoped he would not come before Lakarde.

Lakarde had vaguely known what an orgasm was and how it felt but what happened now was hardly comparable to those times when he would wake up in early mornings with his underwear damp.

Lakarde’s mouth hung open, his hips thrusting wildly then stopping temporally. His head was blank for a few moments, his vague presence of mind overwhelmed by numbing pleasure. Through the white mist his senses had become he could feel something warm and wet running over his fist. Was it his or Dimera’s…? Then the thought was cut off again.

“That was some orgasm you had,” Dimera grinned a minute later, trying to steady Lakarde so that the other boy would not fall. It wasn’t easy as his legs were also shaky. He tried to issue a kiss and Lakarde answered sloppily but his bleary half-lidded eyes showed that he had not come back to his senses yet. He seated them both down on the tiles. “You alright?”

Lakarde nodded dizzily. His head was still swimming in a pleasurable daze.

“Let’s get into the water,” Dimera said a minute later when the cold from the tiles started seeping through his skin. “You can heat it up, right?”

Lakarde opened his eyes to look at Dimera. The blue-hair boy’s arm wrapped around his waist to help him off the floor.

“We’ll get cold and we need to wash all of this off,” Dimera raised his right hand for Lakarde to see. “I would not want to find myself torn in half by any of your elements.”

The blond blushed heavily, realizing that Dimera’s strong wind element was dangerous to him as well. Leaning most of his weight on Dimera, he followed the other boy to the pool. Dimera stopped at the edge and turned to him. Lakarde squatted down to check the water with his hand. It was cool already. He found it wasn’t that easy to concentrate and summon his fire element.

Watching Lakarde summoning his element, Dimera was somewhat worried as it seemed that Lakarde was shocked and dazed by the entire thing. He was starting to get afraid that the blond might reconsider.

A second later, Lakarde pulled his hand out of the water and, using it to balance his body, slid down into the bath. Once inside, he leaned on the edge and waited for the other to follow his lead. 

Dimera watched Lakarde with silent admiration. Lakarde’s head was lowered, the boy feeling awkward. The still damp mass of blond hair was covering his eyes. Lakarde’s nipples had gotten hard and now stood out pointedly. Dimera lowered his eyes; he had not had the chance yet to find out whether Lakarde was sensitive there.

Lakarde shifted uncomfortably, making the water around him ripple. He waited for Dimera to approach him then raised his head to see the blue-haired boy standing right in front of him.

“So what now?” Lakarde asked softly.

“Funny that, I wanted to ask you the same question,” Dimera said. He smiled tentatively.

“Well, you were the one to seduce me,” Lakarde pointed out. He had no idea where to go from there. 

“I wouldn’t have succeeded if you had not wanted to be seduced,” Dimera retorted, not liking how suddenly Lakarde made it all his responsibility. 

Lakarde gave him a scrutinizing look and Dimera suddenly found himself waving his hands in front of himself. “No, no, I did not mean that I won’t take the responsibility or will just forg-” He stopped the sentence at the sight of Lakarde doubling over in laughter.

“Yeah, just in case you got me pregnant!” Lakarde snickered at him without much reproach. “And my father demands your head for seducing his virgin son!”

Dimera did not find this as funny as Lakarde did but squeezed out a smile just to keep the blond company. He frowned as Lakarde did not show any intention of stopping the nervous giggle.

“Well, yeah laugh,” Dimera mumbled. “It’s not you who will have to stand before your father half-dead-half-alive and stammer out the desire to marry you.”

Lakarde choked on his laughter. “To marry?” he repeated between coughs. “You serious?” he asked as Dimera just stared at him silently. The blue-haired boy still made no sound and Lakarde blushed brightly. “Haaahh…” he drawled awkwardly, angry at himself for acting like a prissy princess. Really, had he already known that Dimera had been serious about him? In fact, he had somewhat expected this. “Should… Should I take this as a proposal, then?”

“Should I slap you on your left cheek or something for you to finally get it?” Dimera muttered not without annoyance. He couldn’t believe how embarrassed the situation had turned out to be. Why was Lakarde making things difficult?

Dimera was fidgeting and it started to sink in for Lakarde that he had been acting much bolder than he felt. This made Lakarde regain his own balance.

“Oh, c’mon, my father favors you and you know it,” Lakarde said, taking pity on him. “And why did you decide that you would be the one to ask for my hand in marriage?”

Dimera stared at him. “You wouldn’t,” he stammered. “Would you…?”

Lakarde gave him a teasing grin. “Why not?”

“Well… I’m older than you. It would just…be weird?”

“Ah,” Lakarde suddenly realized. “Don’t tell me you had no one to pursue you before? I don’t think that I would be a passive type in a relationship,” he added, knowing this was too important to let it just slide.

Dimera gave him a grim look. “You know, I kind of figured this out about three years ago.”

“You don’t seem to be happy about it?”

“Not particularly,” Dimera admitted. He shrugged. 

Lakarde stayed silent for a few seconds then nodded.

“But it’s-” Dimera continued.

“You know,” Lakarde interrupted him, “I think it’s way too early to talk about a marriage. I’ve barely turned fifteen. Let’s just wait and see how it turns out.”

Dimera cursed in his head. This was what you got for being open about your feelings. Lakarde did not even let him finish his thought. He wanted to tell Lakarde that he had already waited a handsome amount of time, which had tested his feelings. But the thing was that maybe Lakarde was right. All this time he had mostly watched Lakarde from afar. 

“Alright,” Dimera agreed after a pause of considerable length. He was fearful that Lakarde might pretend that nothing ever happened between them.

“We should get the hell out of here before they catch us,” Lakarde said.

Trying not to stare at each other, they washed themselves quickly then headed for their rooms.

XXXXX

It was only a week later when Dimera managed to convince his roommate to pretend he was sick and spend a night at the med bay. It had cost Dimera some money and a lot of dignity, but this was nothing in comparison to what he anticipated to get from this deal. Lakarde had agreed to spend a night in his room and he was sure Lakarde knew what was to be expected.

Dimera looked around in the room. He had fussed a lot: he had cleaned and scrubbed the floor and windows; he had pushed Yemi’s and his beds together and made sure they had clean sheets; he had also smuggled a bottle of wine and some snacks in. He had thought about a bouquet of flowers as well but then rejected the thought; that might be overdoing things a bit.

The room looked somewhat strange with the oversized bed at one end of it and a table at the other end, but everything seemed in order. Nonetheless, he could not help fidgeting. Once again he smelled his armpits to make sure a thorough scrub in the baths had made him the cleanest person in the dorms.

The knock at the door sent him from sitting to standing in a flash. 

Lakarde entered the room. He nodded a greeting and held out a small package for Dimera. Dimera took it, interested. But it did not go unnoticed, Lakarde’s too-late-hidden smile after having cast a look over the room. 

Dimera motioned for Lakarde to take a seat at the table. Thinking that Lakarde had brought some food, he looked inside the package. He took out a small bottle and a small packet out of the package Lakarde had brought. The bottle was obvious – it was a lubricant of some kind but the other item…

“I won’t even ask if you always keep your room this tidy,” the blond grinned. His eyes slid over two beds that had been pushed together. Dimera had not tried to be subtle either.

“What is this?” Dimera asked, after turning the small packet over in his hands a few times.

“Condoms.”

“Eh? Seriously?” Dimera shook the packet curiously. “Can I open it? What kind of wrapping is this? I have never seen anything like this.”

“It’s from Earth.”

Dimera whistled. He took out a few tiny square packets out to explore. “Don’t get me wrong, but why the hell do we need them?” he asked. “Neither of us can get pregnant.”

“It’s to prevent catching something from each other. Or just for esthetic’s sake.”

“Oh. You mean they can prevent diseases?”

Lakarde nodded. He painfully recalled the embarrassing conversation he and his father had about sexually transmitted diseases and condoms manufactured on Earth. 

Dimera put the lubricant and condoms aside and reached out for the bottle of wine. He had not expected for Lakarde to be so forward and daring. In comparison to the past three years, now their relationship was developing at an incredible pace. Of course, he was not displeased with this, but, besides everything else, it made him feel foolish for having stalled on Lakarde’s courtship. He had never imagined it might be so easy.

Dimera pushed a filled glass over for the other boy then filled his own. Somewhat unsure, he raised it, looked at Lakarde then sipped. Any toast on this occasion, to his mind, would have sounded either ludicrous or vulgar or arrogant. Lakarde followed his lead without saying a word as well, and Dimera thought that the blond was of the same opinion. 

Sipping his wine, Lakarde cast a glance behind Dimera where the arranged bed was looming ominously in half-light. “So who will be bottoming and who will be on top?” the blond asked turning his eyes back to Dimera.

Dimera nearly choked on his wine. Staring at Lakarde, he swallowed what was in his mouth. “Aren’t you being too technical about this?” he mumbled, swirling the liquor in his glass. Was Lakarde testing him?

Lakarde shrugged. “You think so? But we’ll have to decide anyway.”

“Well… I don’t know, but maybe this should be more feeling-based? Or like… I think I just went with the flow.”

“You really are a romantic type, aren’t you?”

Dimera raised his hand to ruffle through his somewhat longish blue hair. He preferred it short but recently there hadn’t been enough time to visit the barber’s. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I mean…nobody else but you seem to think so.”

Sipping his wine, Lakarde watched him over the rim of his glass. “I think we’ll just have to draw lots.”

Lakarde’s tone offered no room for objection and, thinking that if he wanted to get any tonight, he had better agree, Dimera was compelled to nod. In his first encounters he had left the technique and details to his more experienced partner. It had not been a very pleasant experience, but one way or another it had been a start. Well, it did not matter much – if he lost, he would just have to guide Lakarde.

Lakarde found a coin in the pocket of his jacket. “Which will it be, head or tails?” he asked.

“Tails.”

“Alright.” Lakarde tossed the coin into the air then swiftly caught it. 

It was tails. If Lakarde was disappointed, he did not show it. He just announced the result and put the coin back into his pocket then took his glass back into his hand. Dimera felt relieved, though. He was not that sure why. Lakarde was not a woman and very likely would not become more attached to him after being taken, but Dimera felt that it gave him the control over the situation. And since that time in the baths, he had felt that all control had slipped out of his grasp. 

“I really had no idea you were so analytical,” Dimera said.

“You don’t like it?” 

It had sounded more as a statement than a question and Dimera shook his head quickly. “It’s just…somewhat different from what I had expected.” 

Lakarde gave him a somewhat amused look then sipped his wine again. He lowered the empty glass to the table. He did not think he was being analytical. He thought he was being practical. He wanted to leave the Academy with immunity against everything an adult life had to offer. Dimera was a good choice. Not much older, currently of more or less similar standing in society, sensible and eager.

“More wine?” Dimera offered.

Lakarde nodded. “Are we going to do anything else before…‘it’?”

The blue-haired boy took the bottle to refill Lakarde’s glass. “We could do our homework, read poetry, sing or pray but I don’t think my mind would be on it,” he chuckled.

Lakarde’s emerald eyes set on him. It seemed that Dimera had regained his confidence. He was not sure he was glad about it.

Lakarde did not even crack a smile, and his gaze held some particular heaviness. Dimera suddenly realized that it was the matter of trust. Lakarde did not trust him. That was why the blond had wanted to take the matters in his own hands. He was neither too analytical nor confident, he was just wary of him. The realization in itself was disturbing and Dimera wondered why Lakarde had come at all. He was insecure but he still had accepted the invitation. Did Lakarde really like him? Or…was Lakarde only trying to make sure he left the Academy with experience? Was the boy only using him?

The thought made Dimera angry. “Lakarde?” he addressed the blond, already thinking that he might going to regret opening his mouth.

“Mhm?”

“What did you come here for?”

Lakarde gave him an awkward look. “For sex, of course.”

“Well, you know, if this is just about sex…” Dimera trailed off, frantically thinking how to handle the situation so that Lakarde would not think he was an insensitive idiot or, even worse, declare him his eternal enemy.

Lakarde hardly managed himself to stop from groaning and rolling his eyes. “You’re really a romantic idiot. But let me tell you this: right now I am in your room. Not in Kalara’s, Atreus’ or anyone else’s but yours. And if we’ve finally cleared this up, let’s move it to the bed.”

Dimera stared at him for a few seconds then nodded. Could it be that Lakarde was just awfully bad at expressing his emotions? Even now under those offhanded sentences… Well, Lakarde’s “like” was not what he had been aiming for, but for now it would have to do.

Dimera watched Lakarde drain the last drops from his glass and push it over the table, farther from him. Dimera gathered the bottle and condoms from the table and stood up. The room was small and in two strides he was by the makeshift bed. He saw Lakarde somewhat falter then follow him.

Remembering that Lakarde had felt intimidated by his clothing, Dimera tossed the bottle and the packet onto the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt. He would have preferred Lakarde taking it off but it was obviously too early to expect anything like that. The boy was just watching him silently.

Dimera tossed his shirt onto a nearby chair then started unbuckling his belt. He heard the rustling of clothing by his side and turned to see the blond taking his shirt off. He wanted to undress Lakarde but very likely it was too early for that as well.

Nude, Dimera climbed into the bed. Usually he felt quite confident about his body but now he was grateful for the bleary light emanated by the candles on the table. Even if excited, he was somewhat nervous and the light felt somehow soothing. 

Lakarde followed him into the bed a minute later. He could see that the blond was unsure as to what to do. Maybe it would have been a better idea to just lie down on his back and let Lakarde do with him what he wanted. Provided Lakarde knew what he wanted…

Dimera moved forward to Lakarde, who was half-kneeling half-sitting on the bed. With admiration, he watched how the glimmering light played on Lakarde’s body. His skin seemed soft and pale and nearly translucent. Still developing muscles and growing bones. His eyes trailed to Lakarde’s crotch. The slight erection there was tempting but he did not dare to start with it. Nonetheless, it encouraged him to reach out and cup the blond’s face between his hands. 

They kissed, lightly at first, then with more and more passion, until Dimera felt he wanted to swallow the younger boy in one gulp. He lifted his head to catch his breath and look at Lakarde’s flushed face. The blond’s half-lidded eyes stared back at him. Lakarde had his arms wrapped around him, one hand fisted in his hair, another on the small of his back. Like most teens, Lakarde wasn’t wearing any cologne – there was just a faint presence of soap, which let him easily scent the lust pouring in waves off the blond. Dimera looked down between them and was assured that, indeed, Lakarde’s toleration of kissing had grown into something that could not be called toleration anymore. 

Dimera issued another kiss, which Lakarde eagerly accepted. While sharing kisses and caresses, unnoticeably, he started pushing the blond down. Lakarde seemed to notice his position only when he was already lying flat on his back in the linen. Dimera removed his hand from under the blond’s head letting it rest against the pillow. Lakarde’s eyes slightly widened, the lust in them somewhat dissipating, the green in them becoming rather apprehensive. His hands gripped at Dimera’s shoulders when the blue-haired boy laid his body over his. 

It felt good to feel the other’s weight over him. Dimera was supporting himself with his left hand, and Lakarde did not feel crushed as he had expected to feel. Instead, he felt overwhelmed by so much bodily contact. Another thing driving him crazy was Dimera’s scent. It was indicating a young aroused male. And the realization that it specifically was the lust directed towards him, made Lakarde hardly able to breathe. In addition, he suddenly became painfully aware of Dimera’s cock digging in his thigh. It was hotter in comparison with his skin.

“Are you comfortable?” Dimera asked softly leaning over the blond.

Lakarde nodded and at the same time swallowed loudly, giving away his nervousness.

Dimera stroked the younger boy’s side soothingly. He might have said something to try to calm Lakarde down but he knew Lakarde well enough to realize that it might only result in a flare of sudden anger from the blond. Trying to tease him in a situation like this would also result in a bout of annoyance.

Dimera’s palm slid down over Lakarde’s chest to caress the skin there. Lakarde jerked against his palm as he brushed over his erect nipple. So the blond was also sensitive here. Dimera leaned in to press their mouths together. He shifted upwards and felt Lakarde gasp into his mouth as their erections brushed against each other. Not ending the kiss, he moved his body so that now he was in-between Lakarde’s thighs. By the way the Lakarde’s interest in the kiss had diminished, he could tell that the blond was aware of the smallest bits of his movements. So much for his attempts to distract the blond. Dimera figured that the only thing that could successfully distract Lakarde would probably be his cock sprouting a flower. Or turning into a frog, or a cucumber for that matter. The thought made Dimera nearly laugh out aloud. He knew where all Lakarde’s fears were coming from, but even if he was trying his best to take them seriously, he rather wanted the younger boy to stop fretting and enjoy himself.

Dimera started to grind his hips against Lakarde’s, and the blond, not being able to concentrate, broke the kiss altogether. Dimera’s mouth moved away from his lips to his collarbone then to his chest and nipples. He stopped grinding their erections and circled the right nipple with his tongue. The blond’s hand fisted into his hair to keep his head there. Dimera chuckled lightly against the nipple, and the blond’s stomach muscles rippled at the way the breathy laughter caressed his skin.

Dimera’s lips enclosed the nub. He gently teased it with his teeth and tongue, relishing the feeling of Lakarde’s body arching into his mouth. A moment later, he raised his eyes to look at the blond’s face as a few soft moans spilled past his lips. He sucked on it and licked to entice Lakarde more, then raised his head. Lakarde’s hand tried to get him return to what he had been doing before. But as soon as Dimera rolled the wet nipple between his fingers, the grip faltered, the blond’s hips shifting underneath him, trying to get some friction. Ignoring Lakarde’s unconscious insistence, Dimera transferred his attention to the blond’s left nipple. He had to resist the sudden urge to mark Lakarde. He was not sure the blond would appreciate that kind of possessiveness.

Lakarde’s body felt hot, his slick cock pulsing between them and Dimera realized that the younger boy, not used to physical contact, might orgasm even before they got to the next stage. He raised his head to glance at the blond. Lakarde was watching him through hooded eyes. 

Dimera pushed himself off Lakarde and kneeled between his legs. He was somewhat taken aback as the blond suddenly sat up as well. Not saying anything, Dimera looked around for the bottle of lubricant and the condoms. He found them by the blond’s right foot. He unscrewed the cap of the bottle then poured some of the lubricant onto his fingers. The smell was fresh although he could not identify it. Dimera rubbed his fingers together to warm the slick substance. 

“Can you get me that pillow?” He was surprised at how thick his voice came out.

Lakarde turned to look at the second pillow on the bed. He reached out for it. “I hope it’s not Yemi’s?”

Dimera chuckled. “No, Yemi’s is the one under your head. But I don’t think he would have minded.” He took the pillow in his left hand then looked at Lakarde. “You will have to lie down. Raise your hips,” he instructed. Once Lakarde did, he pushed the pillow under them. “Is it comfortable?”

“I suppose,” Lakarde nodded slowly, not sure how exactly comfortable he was meant to feel.

“Bend your knees.”

Lakarde blushed brightly, and Dimera thought that maybe he should have asked somehow more subtly. Nonetheless, the blond did as told and turned his head away to stare at the opposite side of the room. His face was burning red, but Dimera was aware that the blond’s embarrassment had no impact on his arousal – Lakarde was still painfully hard, his breath coming in irregular patterns.

Lakarde’s eyes widened and he tensed as fingers pressed against his opening. But instead of pushing forward, they circled it then slid up his perineum. They massaged there then returned. The digits circled then brushed lightly over the opening. Lakarde exhaled loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. The fingers continued rubbing there now with more pressure.

“Dimera…” 

The blue-haired male ignored him and Lakarde realized that now he rather preferred to be ignored because he did not really want him to stop, he just felt too overwhelmed. It seemed Dimera knew much better what he wanted and how to handle his body. And then one finger slid inside him. Lakarde had no time to figure out how he was supposed to react to this as then it was moving backwards and forwards. It neither hurt nor was very exciting, it was just different.

Dimera could tell that Lakarde was quite comfortable with what he was doing. The blond did not seem flustered or upset, he rather seemed curious, his attention concentrated on what was happening inside him. Dimera added another finger, and Lakarde did not react much to this change either. He flexed his fingers and this made Lakarde tense and grunt. Once the muscles relaxed, he rubbed over the same place again.

“Feels good?”

Lakarde nodded. Every stroke over his prostate, made him want to buck his hips. It felt truly good, the pleasure starting to cloud his mind again. It lasted a few more seconds then he felt himself being stretched. Dimera must have added another digit and it hardly felt comfortable. Lakarde frowned.

Watching Lakarde’s reactions, Dimera made a discovery that so far as Lakarde felt good, he could probably do anything to the blond. But as soon as he experienced a tiny bit of discomfort, Lakarde immediately thought that something had gone wrong. The younger boy was probably convinced that sex and pain were on two absolutely different dimensions. Or maybe he wanted to ensure that it would be so. One way or another, he still had to prepare Lakarde or he would end up in quite a lot of pain.

As his frowning face was ignored, Lakarde figured that it was supposed to feel somewhat uncomfortable. Actually, a minute later, he felt his body accept the pressure and it began to feel good again. In fact, he had also realized he quite liked the way he felt stretched.

A few moments later Dimera pulled his fingers out. Lakarde’s eyes opened to find out what had resulted in the loss of such a delightful activity. He saw Dimera squeezing out some more lubricant and rubbing it over his cock. It stood upright, thick, red and glistening and Lakarde suddenly felt incredibly excited and at the same time sensed something primeval and aggressive in that picture. He did not even notice but at the same time his hands fisted themselves into the bedding. 

The older boy could feel both anticipation and reluctance from Lakarde. The anticipation was plainly winning, and he paid no attention to reluctance. It was only normal. The blond was also probably somewhat disturbed that he had not used a condom. But now it was not the time to explain that the latest relationship he had was about half a year ago. Besides, as Yemi was reserved in his choice of partners, Dimera was sure he carried no diseases.

Dimera leaned over Lakarde and spread his legs apart a little bit more. He took himself into his hand and positioned himself at the blond’s opening. Lakarde watched him silently, his head somewhat raised, fingers still clenched into the sheets.

“Remember to keep breathing.”

Lakarde gave him a somewhat confused look. Dimera pushed forward and felt Lakarde’s arms come around his shoulders with a smack. The grip suddenly tightened and the blond’s fingernails clawed at his back. His cock suddenly felt trapped, Lakarde not letting him move forwards or backwards. At that point Dimera realized that there was not enough lubrication but now he could do nothing about it. The blond’s body twisted then Lakarde pushed at his chest forcefully.

“This hurts,” he protested with a painful frown.

“Even if you push me…” Dimera panted out. 

Lakarde shoved at him again, this time with more force. Dimera grunted.

“Lakarde, if I move, I’ll hurt you even more. You aren’t letting me go.”

It finally dawned on Lakarde that his struggles were hurting both of them and he stilled. His fingers, though, were still trying to tear through Dimera’s chest to find a purchase that would help to lessen the pain.

“It’s alright, just breathe. Try to relax as much as you can and the pain will go away. ”

Dimera heard Lakarde’s sharp intake of air. He waited for Lakarde to throw something back at him about what he thought about relaxing in his state, but nothing came. The blond was surprisingly cooperative.

“Yeah, like that.” Dimera lowered his head to nuzzle Lakarde’s neck. He wanted to distract Lakarde from the pain but was not sure Lakarde would not refuse his attention. The boy let him do what he wanted, though, and he increased his area of exploration. Lakarde was breathing deeply but his body was still straining against his. He had also softened. This was why he did not like virgins. Lakarde was in pain and all he wanted was for him to be out of his body. He did not want to force Lakarde but if he let that happen, the blond would probably never try again. He would not mind bottoming for Lakarde for the rest of his life, but it was obvious that it would be a waste for Lakarde himself.

Dimera stroked the blond’s side then his hip while kissing his collarbone and chest. Gradually, he felt Lakarde relaxing. The blond’s fingers also stopped their assault on his chest, now they were simply resting there. Not trying to move, he found Lakarde’s softened length and started stroking it. The blond tensed around him again but this time it was in pleasure not pain.

He stroked Lakarde until he felt the blond trying to push into his fist. It caused him to move inside Lakarde and the blond moaned quietly. With one more push Dimera was at last fully sheathed. Lakarde tensed and grunted softly but otherwise showed no objections. His hands moved from Dimera’s chest to grasp his arms.

Dimera continued to stroke him and brought Lakarde to full hardness again. He saw the blond head fall back onto the pillow, Lakarde’s shoulders finally relaxing, the deadly grip on his biceps lessening, now becoming encouraging. The boy had also moved beneath him to try and get into a position he was comfortable with.

“Want me to stop?” Dimera asked as he was sure that now there was no danger of hearing a positive answer.

“N-no,” Lakarde gasped out. “Feels good.”

The blond’s hips were already following the lead of his hand, so he started to thrust slowly. Only a fraction of his length, but Lakarde tensed around him again. But the constriction was nowhere near as tight as it was at the very beginning and little by little he adjusted his thrusts to the stroking of his hand and soon Lakarde was taking all of him in and out.

In fact, he had never really been sure if Lakarde was into men but now he could see that Lakarde was inclined. It felt incredible to have Lakarde’s body writhing under his, hearing him grunt and pant. Lakarde’s low moans were becoming louder, soon turning into gasps and shaky exclamations. The blond hair was matted with sweat and sticking to Lakarde’s forehead. The blond was almost there, his hips meeting his in desperate pace. 

Lakarde’s head reclined into the pillow, while his body tensed and arched. His mouth fell open to let out a low guttural sound Dimera had never thought Lakarde could make. The blond came, colorless thick stream shooting out and spilling onto Lakarde’s stomach, some of it landing onto his chest. Dimera wanted to draw his own pleasure out but Lakarde spasming and clenching around him made it impossible. He pulled out gave himself a few jerks with his fist and came. 

When Dimera came round, the younger boy was still being shaken by his orgasm. A few seconds later it quieted, Lakarde’s body slowly relaxing into the bedding. The blissfully unaware and content look on Lakarde’s face made him realize that now he could probably do anything with Lakarde. The thought made him want to do every lewd thing in the world to him but at the same time made him feel protective.

“Whoohoo!”

Dimera started violently at the howl. He stared at the wall right over the headboard. Someone was shouting and pounding on it from the other side. Still not quite right gathering his wits, Dimera vaguely remembered a few familiar faces of the boys who he thought lived in the next room.

“Encore! Encore! That was freakin’ hot!”

The loud whistles and catcalls behind the wall followed then the pounding resumed. Dimera cursed softly and rubbed his forehead. Answering or telling them to shut up would probably only result in more shouting and tries to converse.

Lakarde, though, did not react to any of this. Dimera became a little worried at the lack of response from him. Thinking that Lakarde might have gotten angry, Dimera looked around for a cloth he had prepared earlier. He moved away from between the blond’s thighs and started cleaning the blond. Lakarde shivered and mumbled something. He watched the other boy nervously but it did not seem that he was aware of anything around them. Dimera brushed the sweaty locks off the younger boy’s eyes and forehead. 

“Are you alright?”

Bleary green eyes opened to look at him. “Mhhmhm?”

Lakarde was still shivering lightly and didn’t seem to be very sensible, and Dimera lightly shook him by his shoulders. “Hey, are you alright, Lakarde?”

Lazily, the younger boy shifted to get more comfortably in the bed. “Mmh…slpy…” he muttered, turning around and facing away from Dimera.

Dimera felt more at ease. He covered Lakarde to keep him warm then slid under the covers himself. He chuckled lightly to himself. “Hey, I am not bad, aren’t I?”

XXXXX

It was an early morning when Dimera woke up. Only a few seconds later he became aware of Lakarde sleeping beside him. The previous night came back crashing down. A minute later he turned to look at the clock on the wall. It was still about twenty minutes till the sirens would go off. He’d better wake the blond up.

Nonetheless, waking Lakarde up had somehow turned into caressing, licking and biting him and rolling with him all over the makeshift bed. Somewhere among those actions Dimera thought that he would be very happy to be able to wake up to this every morning.

“It’s in.”

Both of them looked at each other with aroused surprise. It had slid in easily, Lakarde not feeling much else except for being incredibly stretched. He shifted underneath Dimera, trying to get into a more comfortable position to lessen the pressure he was feeling.

“Were you really a virgin just a night before?" Dimera whispered into Lakarde’s ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

“Maybe you’re not as big as you thought?” Lakarde offered kindly.

“You just can’t take jokes, can you?” Dimera muttered between slow steady thrusts.

Lakarde said nothing, just wrapped his arms around Dimera’s shoulders for support.

oOoOoOo_About three weeks later_ oOoOoOo

It was a break for lunch, but instead eating, Lakarde was brooding. He had already been brooding for a few days. Nothing good had come out of it and he had tried to stop it, but his mind would constantly come back and occupy itself with what he had seen in the library and what he wanted to forget. He lacked sleep and was tired.

“Are you alright, Lakarde? You don’t seem well.”

Lakarde raised his head to look at Egorna who was standing at his desk. Egorna was his classmate. He was, like all the boys in the class, older than Lakarde by a few years. He was of average height and wore his light green hair short. He was a calm and quite reserved boy. He was also good at socializing and had created himself a self-confident image. 

“I’m fine.” Lakarde said. “Thanks for asking,” he added.

“You should see the doctor.”

Lakarde gave the green-haired boy a look telling him he was not even thinking about following his advice.

“Let me at least buy you some hot tea, then.”

Surprised, Lakarde looked closer at Egorna. Egorna was a son of a wealthy nobleman from von Christ territories, but his social standing was nowhere near Lakarde’s. “Alright,” Lakarde agreed after a pause and could see that he had surprised Egorna as well. Very likely Egorna had made that suggestion while already resigned to be rejected.

In silence they walked to the cafeteria where they found a free table in a corner. Lakarde sat down to wait for Egorna to come back with the tea.

“Are you and von Rikota together?” Egorna asked when he had returned. He took his mug into his hands.

Lakarde looked at the bottom of his muddy tea. The green-haired youth was not trying to be discreet at all. 

“No, we aren’t,” Lakarde denied. “We just…” he trailed off. He had no will to continue. Why the hell should he talk about this to Egorna anyway?

Egorna nodded. “I see. Would you consider going out with me, then?”

From the bottom of his glass, Lakarde’s eyes rose to Egorna. He stared at him for a few seconds. “That’s quite unexpected,” he said finally.

“Not really.”

Lakarde sighed. True. “Well,” he ruffled through his hair. What the hell did he have to lose after all? “Alright, we can try.”

Egorna gave him a disbelieving look. “Ehh… Well, you sure let me off cheaply,” he laughed then, excitement seeping into his voice. “Had I known it only took lukewarm tea to bribe you, I wouldn’t have been that worried and trying to save up that much money.”

“You saved money to court me?” Lakarde rested his chin on his palm. “Hmm…” he drawled, smiling. “You did come prepared.”

“Well, you are popular after all – I expected much higher standards.”

“I’d like to think I do have some taste as well,” Lakarde retorted.

Egorna grinned at him. “You are unbelievably generous today.”

Lakarde shrugged. He did like Egorna. The youth was serious and had good common sense while interacting with people, which, regrettably, Lakarde himself lacked.

When the break was over, they returned to their classroom. After the lessons Egorna invited Lakarde to his room.

XXXXX

A week later, Wolfram von Bielefeld received a short notice requiring his presence at the Military Academy. The letter informed him that his son had provoked a fight with Dimera von Rikota. There were no details as to how it had happened. As there was nothing said about their injuries either, Wolfram presumed that they were minor, if there were any at all.

Not staling any further, the Prince Consort ordered his carriage and food supplies prepared and went to bid his husband farewell. 

XXXXX

As soon as Wolfram arrived at the Academy, he was showed into a study where he was told Lakarde was waiting for him. As soon as Wolfram entered the room and his son stood up to greet him, he noticed that there was something different about him. He couldn’t grasp what it was but something was definitely unusual.

Again, Lakarde had grown a few centimeters since the last time they saw each other. His son was probably already taller than him. Usually, von Bielefelds weren’t tall, so Lakarde had most likely inherited Heseren’s impressive growth. 

“Father,” Lakarde bowed.

“Hello, Lakarde,” Wolfram nodded. “Sit down,” he motioned back at the sofa where Lakarde had been sitting previously. He approached his son and sat down on the sofa next to him.

“So what happened this time, Lakarde?” 

The boy actually flinched. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know you are,” Wolfram nodded. “I want to know why I was called out.”

A sound catching their attention, Wolfram and Lakarde raised their heads to look at the opening door. Takaya von Rikota and his son walked in. The younger von Rikota’s left eye was swollen with a huge black and blue bruise underneath it. His lip was split and also swollen. Wolfram was rather taken aback by Lakarde’s handiwork. He had not expected it to be so serious. He was also confused as to why Lakarde bore no similar marks of the fight. Both youths should be more or less equal in physical strength.

Wolfram and Lakarde stood up. “Von Rikota.”

“Your Highness.”

Wolfram had not been sure what Takaya thought of this entire affair, but after seeing Takaya give him a fleeting smile and rolling his eyes, was assured that the man’s thoughts on all of this were similar to his – just a lovers’ spat. Lakarde and Dimera were not recognized as a couple officially, but were more or less presumed to be one.

The two von Rikotas settled on the opposite couch to theirs. “Well,” Takaya started, “let’s not waste our time and deal quickly with this. Which of you will explain what happened?” From Dimera, his gaze went to Lakarde who he believed had some grudge to voice out against his son.

Neither of the boys spoke and silence settled in the room. Confused, Takaya cast his eyes over to his son.

“Lakarde, why did you hit Dimera?” Wolfram asked. As soon as he said that, he saw Dimera’s questioning eyes lock on Lakarde. It was obvious that Dimera also wanted to know that.

“Lakarde, I won’t repeat myself again. Either you talk or...” Wolfram stumbled on his words, not sure with what he could threaten his son. But even what he had said was enough – Lakarde was staring at him like a wounded animal – hurt, anger and betrayal radiating off his face. At that moment Wolfram became unsure towards whom this mix of feelings were directed.

Wolfram stood up. “Alright. Pack your…”

“Lakarde!”

Wolfram turned to Dimera, who had jumped to his feet and now was rapidly approaching Lakarde. Takaya had also stood up and seemed to be nervous about what his son was up to.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Dimera shouted at the blond, grabbing him by the lapels of his uniform. “How could you? With him?!”

Lakarde’s stormy eyes snapped to Dimera’s face. He grasped at Dimera’s hands to pry them off his uniform. “Shut the fuck up!” he yelled. “Let go of me!”

Dimera only shook him and Wolfram could see he wanted to slam Lakarde against a wall and shower him with questions and accusations but with the two of them in the room, he did not dare. Lakarde seemed hurt and angry and also ready to charge Dimera with something that was not meant for their ears to hear. It was obvious that the two of them had been broken apart before they had managed to solve their problems.

Wolfram turned to look at Takaya who seemed to have also understood the situation. “Why don’t we leave them alone to clear this up?” Wolfram suggested softly. “They might just work this out on their own.”

Takaya seemed dubious, and Wolfram thought that if it were Lakarde’s face covered in those bruises, he would also have doubts. His attention came back to the two youths. Dimera let go of Lakarde’s uniform and pushed him backwards where Lakarde lost his balance and flopped into the sofa.

“And what the hell did you expect? Am I your property or something?” Lakarde hissed softly at Dimera’s enraged face. “Barging into my room like that! Attacking Egorna!” He tried to sit up but in a second Dimera was over him, flattening him back to the sofa, and Wolfram was immediately aware at how familiarly their bodies were touching. It was obvious that the two had done more than hold hands. Another thing that was obvious was that Lakarde had bashed Dimera’s head in while defending this Egorna.

“Let go of me this instant, or that shiner will be the least of your problems!” the blond demanded.

Dimera actually growled. “What did I expect? I sure did not expect nearly four years going to waste! Who do you think you are to toy with me like this?!”

“Who toyed with you?!” Lakarde screamed back at him. “It’s you who slept with that damn Yemi! And then you have the guts walk around and act offended! So why the fuck can’t I sleep with Egorna?”

“Oh shit,” Wolfram muttered. The atmosphere in the study was nearly tangible. Takaya seemed to be lost in that stunned silence. Dimera was just staring down at Lakarde, who was defiantly staring back at him. The total stillness lasted a few more seconds then Dimera’s hand flew up.

The slap knocked Lakarde’s head to the side. The echoes had still not faded as Takaya groaned and rubbed his face with his palms. 

“You damn idiot!” Dimera hissed. “There’s nothing between us!”

Lakarde’s head snapped back to face the blue-haired boy and Wolfram winced. But as Dimera was holding his wrists down, Lakarde did not manage to raise his clenched fists. Watching the tableau before him, Wolfram could only wonder if he had looked as stunned and then as angry when Yuuri had slapped him as his son did now. 

“So you say. And what was that in the library, I dare ask?” Lakarde spat. “What was in his mouth that you tried to reach with your tongue so desperately?”

Wolfram did not want to be here. In his life he had experienced and witnessed quite a few lovers’ spats and this one was just as stupid as all of them.

“If your damn highness had bothered to ask me, I would have told you that it was Yemi’s idea to confess his feelings to me! He jumped me! I rejected him fair and square!”

“Why the heck did he confess to you in the library?” Lakarde did not subside. “And after all this time?” 

“It’s not like I know! Probably just for you to see!”

Lakarde’s mouth closed, his jaw setting firm. “So he had planned that, huh?” 

“Let’s go get something to drink,” Takaya muttered softly. “I think this has started winding down.”

Wolfram nodded. He let Takaya pass then closed the door behind them. He did not know who that Yemi was, but he was in for some serious trouble. When Lakarde got his hands on him… Wolfram groaned mentally as he could already see himself getting another abrupt notice requiring him to come to the academy.

“So…regarding the slap…” Wolfram drawled when they were walking down a corridor. Neither he nor Takaya actually knew where it led, but it led away from the room with Lakarde and Dimera and that was good enough.

“I think it was a punch.”

“It was a slap.”

“I think it was closer to a punch. It nearly broke Lakarde’s jaw.”

“It was clearly a slap.”

“Alright, so will the engagement celebration take place in your castle or mine?”

“Well, seeing as it was Dimera who slapped Lakarde…”

“Damn.”

**THE END**


End file.
